Hopeless Emotion

Seeking to end that which is worthless. A storm cloud consumes a mind which had been bright with that awful youthful ignorance. I am brilliant. I am correct. This world is to be despised. I am holding in a secret wound which will never heal. {{Cyrus from Pokemon Diamond/Pearl/Platinum. Associated with Poketumblr}}

[uncloudedoutlook]

Left Behind || Cyrus / Jupiter

[skuntankerous]

The Commander was a patient woman.  She had trained the unruly Skuntank, Lucifer, to be loyal to her.  She had traveled the countryside on a mission to find the most simple of things.  She had waited until she understood a situation before acting.  And now she waited for Cyrus.  The man had tensed at her words as if he was anticipating being beaten.  Had she interrupted him so forcefully?

Cyrus did not turn to face her immediately.  With his back to her, Jupiter could not know what he was thinking, or what he was looking at.  With all that had been happening with Galactic since her departure, he was sure to have plenty on his mind.  Jupiter was pleased in thinking that her arrival would be a welcome distraction.  Another minute passed in complete silence; the Commander dutifully waiting for her Boss to acknowledge her.

When he did turn, his movements were slow and his posture was stiff.  Jupiter’s small smile never faded even as her eyes met Cyrus’; he looked like he hadn’t been sleeping well.  She made a mental note to bring him a relaxant later—the pressures of being Galactic’s Boss were taking its toll on him.

And when he spoke, it was in a voice that held more anger than anything she had heard him speak before.  “Jupiter, what do you want?”  Taken aback, the Commander’s smile disappeared.  Cyrus looked at her with more negative emotion in his features that she wasn’t sure if he was irritated with her or the current state of Galactic.  His wording was more intimate than was his usual style, but she knew that he had never let anger control his words before.

Jupiter knew now that Cyrus was more agitated than she had guessed.  Surely research wasn’t coming along that badly?  She had checked in with them before she went to Cyrus—was there more that she did not know?  Saturn and his team of scientists were close to a breakthrough, but they were missing key ingredients.  Ingredients that she held in her position.  The gift-wrapped box lay at the foot of Cyrus’ desk, unseen.

"I returned from abroad, that you so kindly allowed, and brought myself up to speed on Galactic’s current state of affairs; I have just spoken with Commander Saturn and his team of scientists," Jupiter replied coolly, studying the extreme attempt at impassiveness that came over Cyrus.  Their eyes did not meet now—his gaze was through her.  She wanted nothing more than to share the burden that he held in his heart, but she knew that he was not a man who could be pushed.

She had to take her time.  The night they shared together, though special, was something that she could not bring up now.  It showed, with his words—spoken and unspoken—that it had not gone forgotten.  “It appears that the progress that we’ve made isn’t as much as we’d like,” the Commander went on, preparing herself for the big reveal.  The gift was everything he could have asked for and more.  It would wipe the sour look right from his face and would bring their goals even closer in sight.  It’d be best to make the most of it, she decided.  “Therefore, I have—”

"That’s enough talking, Jupiter.  Sit down."

The tone of his voice was dangerous.  Her eyes widened ever-so-slightly at the harsh command, but she obeyed nevertheless.  He fought the urge to glare at her, but his displeasure was more than obvious.  Jupiter shut her mouth like she was told and moved to sit in the uncomfortable chair that she stood beside.  Her boot touched her gift as she crossed her legs; she chose not to think about its contents.

Cyrus paced behind his desk; Jupiter could not help but feel like she was a prisoner about to be sentenced.

[uncloudedoutlook]

She acted as though there was nothing wrong, as though he was attached to her. She looked at him with that affection, and it made his stomach turn – his mouth go dry. How could she think that, when she should know how he was – when she took pride in seeing a moment of disgusting weakness? And there she went, speaking, speaking like she knew so much. He looked in her direction out of necessity for a degree of politeness, but he looked past her, through her. He did not see those painted lips nor did he see the color of her hair – he saw only the wall, the door he would make her exit very, very soon.

Not soon enough.

Jupiter's words kept going, never seemed to end. Somewhere along the line, the Galactic Boss had stopped really listening and ended up only hearing the sound of her voice, with each new syllable spoken sending another wave of...something through him. Until he had had enough of it, could listen to her no longer and spoke up against her in a tone much harsher than he had intended.

“That's enough talking, Jupiter. Sit down.”

It was only now that she realized how fearsome his anger and distaste was. Her eyes widened slightly, her motions stiffer now as she moved to sit down in the chair as though she were waiting for the interrogator to begin. But now that he had her sitting down, breath held in her chest as she waited for his judgment, what could be said that would not make him appear to be completely out of control of himself? Tucking his arms behind his back he began to pace about his desk, brows furrowed and eyes shadowed.

Time went on, a steady march, an endless stretch of silence before he finally turned about and faced her again, this time looking into her eyes, taking measure of the surprise. The hurt. Where did she think she was justified in bearing such a look towards him? She had done more to him in one night than he could possibly do to her in a lifetime...!

Cyrus again battled within himself to reduce the tide and swell of ugly emotion, of the pieces of humanity he had long since declared gone from his life. Still, there were traces of harshness in his tone when he spoke to her now, his lips pulled deeply into a scowl of proportions unseen on his expression before now. “I wish to speak to you about that night.”

The thought of it turned his stomach with a pleasure that he did not want, with a subsequent fury that was a sign of weakness. He wanted this over. He wanted to not look at her anymore, he wanted to not feel this anymore, to return to his stony exterior, to be solid within himself once more.

“...And to make it clear that there is nothing of tenderness, nothing of value between us.”

The only answer he received from the woman sitting in the chair was silence, an uncomfortable shifting, an aversion of her eyes from his cold and angry stones. The fury, the ugly, pitiful fury building within his stomach boiled over like water on the stove, and he curled his hands into tight fists. Taking one step towards her - and his desk by extension - stiff, aggressive.

“Answer me.” His tone dropped to one of a commander, one of demand. “This is a conversation not a man talking in the mirror. It takes two people. What have you to say?” 

[uncloudedoutlook]

Left Behind || Cyrus / Jupiter

[skuntankerous]

After returning to Galactic HQ and inputting all of the information she had found into the computers, and transferring everything she inferred from them into separate documents, the Commander’s thoughts immediately began drifting towards that night.  Their night, she’d reminded herself with glee.  She wanted to do something for him, but what?  She pondered this throughout the missions she was assigned, going through them with ease until an ingenious idea came to her.

Jupiter requested a brief leave of absence forthwith, asking for her younger subordinate, H-47, to accompany her.  When it was granted, she knew exactly what she wanted to do.  One quick trip to visit the famous Bill and an updated ensemble to match, the Commander swapped personalities until she was successful in getting the one object in her possession that mattered: the Upgrade.  If there was one Pokemon whose evolution Cyrus hadn’t studied, it was Porygon’s.

The woman smiled; it would be unlike her to not go the extra mile.  Jupiter held the box firmly in her hands to avoid jostling the contents that lay within.  Now back in Sinnoh, her heart was filled with the joy her gift would bring him.  She’d picked the perfect time to bring it to him: Saturn and Mars were both out on missions, and she had just returned.  Cyrus would be in his office, of course, brooding over the paperwork she’d given him the day before.  His schedule was like a machine: diligent, concise, predictable.

Jupiter’s boots clicked on the sleek tiles, her shadow long and trailing behind her.  It seemed like it had been forever since she’d last visited him here, taking care of him when he could not do so by himself.  Nurturing him had taken its toll on her affections, but ever since their night in Canalave, that could not compare.

It would have been odd, really, she thought suddenly, turning a corner and giving a grunt a nod, if they had spent more time together since their return.  It was only natural that they’d be apart, particularly for Cyrus, for the woman knew that he would reflect further upon their actions—their kiss—than anyone else.  The Commander wasn’t bothered by their distance; she respected Cyrus’ need to be alone.

That was what made him different.

Unlike all of the other men she’d dated, it was only with Cyrus that she felt the most comfortable.  He was slow, and she was patient.  He brooded, and she knew.  There was no need for action or adventure in their relationship—things would progress as they went, and they would be happy with that.  Despite Cyrus’ communication flaws, she loved him just the same.

The book of myths, the Porygon, and its Upgrade were all for him.  And as she stood in front of the door of his office, the Commander’s heart fluttered in a way that she feared would give away just how much she felt for him; their subordinates must not know.  How would the grunts view them if they violated the very rules Cyrus was so adamant about them not doing?  Everything they did together ever since that frigid morning was against regulation.

Jupiter kept her pleasure hidden from her features as she knocked on the stainless steel door, her knuckles rapping on the metal in quick bursts.  She waited for a moment, but there was no answer.  It was unlike Cyrus to ignore a request to enter his office: they only came when their was business to be done, and if he was not inside, the light above his door would be red.

Thinking he had not heard her, Jupiter knocked again.  This time, the door opened the slightest amount, and she entered with care, holding the gift box behind her back.  At the end of the room was Cyrus, staring out the window with his back to her.  He was like a statue, his figure as tall as ever, with his arms clasped behind his back like a lock.  The Commander took her chance to walk forward as quietly as she could and place the present out of sight in front of his desk.

"Good afternoon, Cyrus," she said, a slight smile forming on her lips.  She stood, waiting for the man she respected most to turn around, to face her for the first time since that night.  Jupiter controlled her breathing as she always did; there was no need to jump in to anything.  Give him time.

[uncloudedoutlook]

Where there had been some degree of wonder – and perhaps even pleasure – upon the night they had shared, and regret upon her leaving there was none any more. The feeling of something just short of bliss – brought on by having someone who honestly cared for him and his history without judgment – had persisted into the next two days beyond the event. But now it had faded into a form of...neutrality, or perhaps even disappointment – mostly directed at himself. He, Cyrus, was a man who was not swayed by emotions. He was not meant to be understood, only respected, looked up to, obeyed. He was a wall, a fortification; he could not be climbed or buried beneath, he could not be pummeled through without great effort.

Yet, he had chosen to give up that night, chosen to give in to her advances and do nothing against them. And then she lured him in – as though she had some kind of ability to Charm, like some creature from myth that was neither man nor Pokemon. When he realized the full effect that his compliance would have in the future he has wrung his hands and pulled at his hair, pacing his room back and forth until the very early hours of the morning. He had shown more than a little weakness, he had shown absolute vulnerability and even a human craving for attachment. And that was the most disgusting, harmful thing of all of this – he had learned since he was a child that he could not afford to want any form of attachment. That was the very thing that destroyed him in the first with his parents, what ended him in the later years as his grandfather was taken from him to a piece of life’s cycle that was unreachable for a simple man like Cyrus.

His mind was made up that day, about 4am in a misty morning – he would avoid her, he would keep her at a distance and pretend that nothing at all had happen. He would try to avoid seeing her, to avoid those feelings that he claimed he did not have, that he did not want to have.

Of course, such a decision was unable to be; it was foolish and not at all thought out. He could keep away from her, but not forever. He could send her off, but he had no reason for it. And he always needed a reason.

It was this matter that clouded his mind on this day, as he stood silently in his office, as stiff as a statue. He gazed outside at the world without any clear focus, hardly feeling the warmth of sunlight against his pale skin. Perhaps the best course of action would be to confront her, but then he would need to call her in to a private place, for a private meeting... and then he would have to maintain his cool.

What was it about her that made him weak? Was it her painted smile, her mature composure? It caused an ache in his chest and a well of something akin to terror deep within him, in the most primal spot of his body...

An interruption of his thoughts came – a knock upon his door. He barely stirred, turning his head slightly to the side to gaze at it. He had not shut the door tightly, and he knew with a small push it would open; there was nothing to repel whoever it was, and he supposed he did not want to. A distraction to his musings would be welcome, even should it come in the form of a grunt who bumbled forwards without real conviction.

Another knock; the door opened slightly, he could tell by the sound of it swinging on its hinges. Though he should have spoken something, given some sign as to his consciousness, he did not – feeling almost as though he lacked the will to int hat moment. And was that not funny? He, the man who made speeches that wove words together so elegantly, that welcomed applause from every person who stood within the audience....

Of course, whatever luck he had worked against him. The voice that spoke to him was the very voice he least wanted to hear, belonging to the very person he was trying to decide the fate of. He tensed further, his crossed arms tightening and his jaw setting. But now he would have to face her. It would be better the sooner it was...

He focused for a moment on his faint reflection in the window, making sure that his eyes were hard and cold. Satisfied that he appeared suitably uninviting, he turned about slowly, back straight, standing tall. Oh, she smiled at him, and there again was the feeling that he wanted not to have any hint of. With a deep intake of air through his nostrils he gave a response, terse, simple; “Jupiter, what do you want?”  

[johtogal-deactivated20140928]

Divebomb ;; UT open

—「 ★  ❜ The drone of a wild Combee is enough to make Crystal look up from her desk but not enough to keep a hold on her attention, as she quickly turns back to her laptop and the pile of papers in front of her. Professor Oak had given her a bit of extra work today because he has a deadline to meet and he finds her methods of getting through paperwork to be far more efficient than his own.

As always, she’s happy to help.

Read More

[uncloudedoutlook]

...There were some who still insisted upon more traditional ways of communication – or perhaps when they were very hasty they merely fell back upon them. Cyrus had intended to visit Professor Elm in Johto for the reason of speaking over the mysterious energies that inspired the creation and hatching of Pokemon eggs – something that perhaps, one day, could be beneficial to human society. Various forms of energy always could be, when placed to the proper test and harnessed by the brightest minds.

Of course, the Pokemon Professor of the Johto region was something of a notorious flake. While they were supposed to meet at Cyrus arrival point, instead he had found a handwritten note, sloping sloppily and barely legible; the page a bit torn at the side. At least he was able to understand the most important piece of the message: a request to meet at the laboratory in New Bark Town.

And so – with no little expense to himself – the Team Galactic boss traveled all the way to New Bark Town – further into Johto than he had at first intended.

At least laboratories were often easily visible, and this one was no exception. It took him no time at all to locate it upon arriving in New Bark, and Cyrus struck out for it at once – oblivious as to the 'danger' lurking above him in the form of a rather frustrated Spearow. Now, these little creatures were prone to aggression and much like humans, would lash out at anything that could prove to be an outlet when their anger had begun to boil over. Such an action was, after all, a primal and very easy outlet for extreme emotions. The outlet in this case was the blue-haired man who walked with a determined stride.

As the man approached the lab, the annoyed bird Pokemon took flight at him, finding an excuse if only because he stepped upon a discarded piece of food it had had its eyes on while it decided whether it was beneath it or not to pick up some Human's scraps. The force of the collision, thought he bird was not the largest or heaviest Pokemon about, sent Cyrus stumbling, shouting loudly as it pecked at the arms he had brought up to cover his face. Eventually he lost his balance, landing with a very loud slam against the ground. Satisfied in this, the bird Pokemon left him, taking flight to the sky with a loud cry.

...And of course, someone heard and had to come to his rescue, only finding him sitting on the ground with his hands bleeding and shirt sleeves torn.  

[uncloudedoutlook]

Explosive Plans ||Saturn + Cyrus

Cyrus was well aware that Saturn’s entire existence revolved about serving him – and by extension, Team Galactic – to the best of his abilities. Such unhealthy devotion was recognized and, despite his better moral judgment, Cyrus did nothing to stop it. Saturn was a smart young man, after all, and as suh, the Galactic Boss had long since realized that the blue-haired youth would likely have left Galactic long ago for one of the many more promising opportunities that would be available to him if it was not for his absolute faith in the commander of this whole organization. Of course, one could argue that Charon remained there without loyalty, but the old man was a different story. Charon remained because it was a place he was willing to apply his skills without fretting about the moral constraints a less shady organization – and the world at whole for that matter – would place on him.

If there were less rules in Galactic, at least as far as morality went, Cyrus shuddered at what he would do. He knew already that the least trustworthy of his commanders would be more than pleased with the task he was going to give him and Saturn; it was to be an exercise in brutality after all.

Cyrus kept his back turned to the door of his office, the window behind his desk opened to allow some of the air and sound of the city in. All those little people, going about their days with a blissful ignorance of the greater powers, ignoring the tragedies presented to them daily, both large and small, the best they could. There was a time he had envied them, with their abilities to move through the grime of living, but now he merely saw the masses as ignorant. He pressed on his temples slightly, trying to alleviate the pounding ache building in his head from all the thoughts that pressed against his skull. There was far too much to think about. The lake Pokémon, Jupiter, the controlling of Team Galactic….and this new project.

The sound of the door to his office opening followed by footsteps told him Saturn had at last arrived. Turning around in his chair, Cyrus removed his thumbs from his temples and clasped his hands together in his lap. “Good afternoon Saturn. I have quite the task to give you. Take a seat, this may take some time.” Cyrus lifted one hand and made a vague gesture towards one of the spare chairs placed before his desk.

There would no doubt be quite a lot in the way of questions and subsequent explainations.  

[uncloudedoutlook]

Into the Rabbithole || Cyrus / Jupiter

[skuntankerous]

[...]

Jupiter looked to the arm that hers was looped around.  His baggy sleeves hid his thin body just like his scowl disguised his fragile heart.  The Commander rubbed her thumb along his arm.  Words held less meaning than actions; she hoped hers would bring him solace.  Cyrus bowed his head with a sigh of contentment.  His eyes met hers and she gave him a gentle smile.  There was so much more to him than he let the world know; Jupiter wanted nothing more than to share it with him.  “Out of all the cosmos,” she asked quietly, “is there a place where you take your greatest pleasure?”

Cyrus stared at her for a long minute before replying, his expression curious.  “The beaches,” he replied easily.  “I try to avoid them, but only because I do enjoy them so much.”  He looked ahead of him, his eyes unfocused.  Jupiter smiled inwardly as Cyrus continued to speak, his explanation turning from a simple statement into a re-imagining of the memory.  Through his words, she was taken to the sunny seashore of Sunyshore: she could feel the warm rays soak into her skin like lotion, she could smell the crisp salt of the ocean.  The waves rushed towards the beach hungrily, their crests swallowing the sand with a gentle whoarsh.

And there he was by the shore, barely older than eleven.  Cyrus stood with his ankles sunk in the mud and faced the ocean; it was not hard for the Commander to compare the child to the man she knew.  He was so stiff, so tense, so still, that the young boy of his past was now nothing more than a stranger.  If she knew him less, Jupiter would never have considered them the same person.  Once he was finished talking, Cyrus’s gaze drifted back to hers.

If Jupiter had had any doubts as to his feelings for her, they were quickly driven away.  In his eyes she saw an emotion that she knew he did not think about, and one that would cause him the most distress.  Fondness was not something to be taken lightly, especially by a man such as he.  Cyrus’ eyes widened only just before he turned his head away.  Jupiter smiled inwardly; did he think that she could not see, that she did not feel the emotion that was in his look?  Determined to keep himself in check, Cyrus’ arm flexed subconsciously, and once more Jupiter was brought close to him.  “Beaches don’t feel part of the human world and our mass of motion,” he mumbled, his voice nearly drowned out by the waves.

Warning bells once again rang shrilly through her mind; Jupiter did her best to rid them form her head.  She could not go further down this topic.  If she did, she knew Cyrus would be quick to silence himself, to withdraw back into his fortress and his solitude.  The stars shone brightly down upon them now; how had the time passed so quickly?

A breeze blew through her bangs again, and, using her left hand to smooth them out, the Commander thought of the best way to ease the mood.  Glancing at Cyrus from the corner of her eye, she saw the determination to keep himself from retaining the fondness he’d looked at her at in his features.  Of course, she thought to herself.  His grandfather.  For it was he who Cyrus always mentioned, and it was he that Cyrus expressed himself most about.  The question rolled naturally off her lips.  “What do you consider your favorite childhood memory?” Jupiter asked softly.

Broken from his thoughts, Cyrus turned to meet her gaze.  He studied her for a brief moment, and she could see him swallow painfully.  He turned away with a sigh, but not before his arm tightened around hers.  He nearly smiled when she rubbed his arm again.  

“My favorite memory…?” the Galactic Boss began, pondering the question.  He looked away from her again, touching the hand on his arm absently with his own.  “Of course it has to do with my grandfather.  In an attempt to remove me from the reach of my parents and the crowded, constant lighting of the city, he brought me out and away into a more wild area of Sinnoh where, for the night, we set up camp.  It was my first time going and though I preferred the structure and order of the indoors I was excited for a private moment—and the surprise he had stated he had in store for me.”

Cyrus paused then, shifting slightly and glancing down at the hand that held hers.  Jupiter rubbed her thumb along his, silently urging him to continue.  “When we got there, he set up a telescope.  I knew he didn’t have one—he had rented it just for tonight.  We didn’t sleep, though we had brought bags and a tent.  I spent the whole of the night wide-awake with my curiosity and wonder running rampant.  My parents were furious because I was so tired when I got home.  But not even that couldn’t stop me from feeling… radiant.  I had the best night I could have asked for.  It’s something I will not forget.”

So the memory that Cyrus loved the most was one shared by his grandfather.  Just as when he retold the memory of his time at the beach, so too did Jupiter imagine herself in the remembrance.  For Cyrus to share the universe with the one person who brought the stars to him was indeed a memory that should not be forgotten.  In was incredibly special, his opening up to her.  Jupiter stopped walking and pulled away from Cyrus in order to get a good look at him.  ”Your grandfather sounds like a very kind man; it’s obvious he means a lot to you,” she said, squeezing his arms warmly.  “Thank you for sharing that precious memory with me.”

"Of course… You’re—you’re welcome."  He shuffled his feet awkwardly, unable to look her in the eyes.  Jupiter smiled again; she could not have asked him for anything else.  She looped her arm through his once more and together they continued walking through the now star-lit path in the park.  The Commander did not mind the silence that fell between them; there was a certain tranquility that Jupiter would enjoy it while it lasted despite her wandering mind.

She knew him.  She knew him now more than she had before—and certainly more than anyone else.  Several questions buzzed through her mind, though none of them were appropriate for the moment.  What had been his dreams?  Was space and its infinite universes his only means of escape?  Cyrus had been alone—and had felt alone—well into his adult life.  His dreams for Galactic… the desire for a ‘new world without strife’…  His childhood, his parents, were the beacon that he strove to distance himself from.  If there was a world without strife, there would be no wars, no pointless fighting over petty desires.

A child would not have to be punished by unforgiving parents.

It was in this realization that Jupiter felt very close to Cyrus.  It was easy to see now, easy to understand.  She had always known there was something held back in how he interacted with the world.  For a man who believed the world to be suffering so much that he wishes for a new world without such misery was a man who suffered.  Cyrus’ stern look of a frown and furrowed brows led his subordinates and the world to believe he was a man without emotion.  The Commander knew all of this was a lie: his eyes more than revealed his pain.  The bright lights of the city were now upon them, and soon they would have to part.  Jupiter did not wish to break away from him so soon; when she slowed her walk to nothing more than a crawl, he kept the pace.

Despite their time to part arriving swiftly, Jupiter continued to reflect on the man she loved.  He was not a man without emotion—Cyrus was emotion.  He felt so much that he despised them, despised how he felt, despised how they made him feel about himself.  It was impossible for Jupiter to not understand; his emotions were so strong that he struggled to keep them under wraps.  ‘Mind over matter.’  The old idiom was repeated through the generations, but it did not hold as true as when Cyrus performed.

When they reached their ultimate destination, the two reluctantly stopped.  This was where they would leave each other.  If the moment was broken now, surely when they saw each other next things would be as if their date never happened.  Removing her arm from Cyrus’, Jupiter turned to face him, resolve settling deep within her heart.  If circumstances were to change, she would have to make a stand.  She was a woman who knew what she wanted—she was a woman who made things happen.

So when they looked into each other’s eyes, with her tilting her head just slightly, the Commander smiled a fond smile, the corners of her lips raising to show the whites of her teeth.  Though it was dark, the lamps illuminated his thin, but very beautiful, face.  Her heart accelerated, and Jupiter felt a strong desire to kiss him in that moment.  Here goes.  She took a step closer to him, her hands reaching to grasp his.  Jupiter took another small step towards him, her chest barely brushing against his, and gently squeezing the clammy hands within her own.  When Cyrus did not move away from her touch, Jupiter lifted herself on her toes to bring her face nearer to his.

His eyes were blue, but were touched with enough grey to form a mixture as calming as his presence.  Jupiter’s eyes trailed down to his thin lips, imagining how they must taste, and how they would feel against hers.  Would they be a good match?  Returning her eyes to Cyrus’, she took a good look at the man just before her.  A light flush of color spread across his cheeks at her touch.  That subtle pinkening could have been a starburst in her eyes; the world had never seen anything as spectacular as his blush.  They were close, closer than they had ever had before.  Had she shifted her weight to her other leg, their knees would touch.

Cyrus blinked once, slowly, his mouth a questioning ‘o’.  Jupiter could feel how tense he was; was he confused by her forwardness?  But with the way she could feel his heart beating rapidly just as hers seemed to burst from her chest, she figured now was as good as any.  Her cheeks a rosy pink, the Commander gazed at Cyrus, silently asking for permission.

She was not sure if creating a new world without strife would rid him of his suffering, but she hoped that just her being there was good enough for him.

As she leaned in, she moved her hands from his and moved the to the crooks of his elbows.  She heard Cyrus’ sharp intake of breath once their noses touched, and she could feel his rapid heartbeat so close to her own as their chests met.  After a moment’s hesitation, Jupiter closed her eyes and brought her lips to his.  They were dry, although not unwilling, she knew that he had not been expecting this—Cyrus was a statue.  Five seconds had not yet passed and already she pulled away a breath’s distance.

But something commanded her to move forward; this could not be their first kiss.

Jupiter brought her painted lips to his again, her hands embracing his arms as she moved closer.  She pressed a little more firmly, and Cyrus’ muscles relaxed, but not in a way she was expecting.  He moved under her touch, uttering with surprise in the process.  Immediately she broke the kiss, her eyes snapping open.  What have I done? 

The Commander sank back to her feet, her thoughts wild.  What have I done? repeated through her mind.  This was Cyrus, her boss, the man who held all of her respect.  She was now fully apart from Cyrus, but her hands lingered on his arms; should she remove them, it would be the end.  But there was no need to touch him now; this she knew, was merely selfishness of a greedy heart.  Who was she to force her affections on another, especially the delicate Cyrus?

"Forgive me," she whispered, turning her eyes away from him.  She had tried, and she had failed—she should have known that, despite the circumstances, Cyrus was in no way in want of her advances.  "I acted out of li—" Jupiter’s hands slowly slid from his, her touch lingering. 

"…It—It’s okay," came the soft reply.  His fingers curled around hers just before they lost contact.

What?  She looked towards Cyrus in disbelief: his countenance was that of tenderness.  Once their eyes met, a blush erupted across his cheeks and he diverted his eyes; though he did not retain eye contact, he was still looking at her.  Jupiter’s face broke out into an unrestrained smile, affection flooding through her body like a river.

"Oh, Cyrus," she murmured, holding his hands close to her heart.  She had never imagined their relationship turning out like this, despite her strong feelings for him.  To have him so close to her on a romantic night, to be able to kiss him, to hold him, and have everything as okay… Jupiter could not have wished for a more perfect evening.

His eyes reverted back to hers only just, and it was in that moment that Jupiter took her chance.  Removing her hands from his and instead cradling his head in them, she pressed herself against him with more passion than anyone in Galactic had ever seen from her.  She titled her head so that their lips met, and, in this heat-of-the-moment kiss, their meeting was uneven.  Cyrus’ breathing hitched and his lips parted further: Jupiter kissed so that his top lip was stuck between hers.  She ran the tip of her tongue along the edge of his lip before deepening the kiss further.  When he sighed, she did as well, grasping his arm in one hand and pressing her hips against his.  This time their knees did touch, but Jupiter wasn’t complaining.

"Though I dearly wish this date would not end," she breathed, ending the intimate gesture but still remaining very close to him, "I’m afraid I must turn in."  Jupiter smiled warmly and pressed her forehead to his, her thumb stroking his cheek.  Was it possible for him to become even more red?  "I enjoyed tonight, Cyrus."

And with that said, she removed herself from him, her fingertips trailing his neck and his collarbone as she did.  “I… enjoyed myself, too…?” he repeated stupidly, his mouth gaping.  Jupiter smiled the amused smile she always gave him; he was so adorable when his naivete showed.  Perhaps that played a reason for why she liked him so much.  Cyrus was as much of a man as Byron or the silly Crasher Wake.

He was just as human as everyone else.

Gazing at him with love in her eyes, the Commander blew a kiss before turning on her heel and walking towards the hotel she’d rented specifically for the night, knowing that Cyrus would not be following.  There was a time and place for everything, but that was not now.  She smiled broadly when she’d passed through the solid oak doors.  Oh, Cyrus…

[uncloudedoutlook]

In a pathetic attempt to recenter himself, to remove the attachments of memory from his mind, Cyrus turned his eyes skyward, examining the quilt of stars in the sky, glimmering down as though they were guardians of this fragile mortal realm. Yet logic and knowledge told him they were naught but a collection of superheated gasses in a distant place; there were no guardians of mortal men. And if there had ever been they had since abandoned the pathetic, powerless race, making them find their own way, stumbling blindly about like newborn Skitty.

Alas, the stars filled Cyrus only with a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach, and he looked away and back to the face of the woman at his arm, just as she asked him a question. A question which proved to be – yet again – painful, dredging up feelings of wholeness, of happiness that had been long lost to him, disappeared somewhere on the path to adulthood. He wondered, briefly, if his Commander was trying to get under his skin, to bring him pain, but when he looked into her eyes, at her lips and the expression she wore as a whole he could find nothing but earnest, actual interest in his existence and his past.

Somehow, the lack of malice in her made the matter all the worse, and as he swallowed in an attempt to regain a feeling vaguely resembling his normal, it felt painful and stuck in his chest like coal. So he turned his head away, trying to keep centered, a sigh tearing from his lips as he did so...and unconsciously, the muscles in his arm tightened about hers. He smiled when her thumb moved across the fabric of his clothing.

When had he allowed her to become a lifeline for him, even as his body felt sick, as his mind howled at him to pull away? How dare he open up, show a flash of weakness? Still, he spoke – still he carried on.

Why did he want this connection?

“My favorite memory...?” Looking aimlessly down the street, he searched his mind through times of his childhood, through snapshots of his grandfather's face, smiling at him, through moments of personal victory – avoiding the moments of failure, the moments of disappointment. His hand moved over as though he would cross his arms, and he placed it upon Jupiter's lightly, not quite noticing what he was doing. ““Of course it has to do with my grandfather. In an attempt to remove me from the reach of my parents and the crowded, constant lighting of the city, he brought me out and away into a more wild area of Sinnoh where, for the night, we set up camp. It was my first time going and though I preferred the structure and order of the indoors I was excited for a private moment—and the surprise he had stated he had in store for me.”

His fingers curled slightly, and he realized consciously that he was nor grabbing the fabric of his sleeves but Jupiter's hand. He looked down at their touching skin, still caught in the memories he held for a time long passed, and questioned himself as to the last time he had held the hand of another. It had been quite some time ago, before he had left Sunyshore...he had taken his grandfathers hand to say goodbye.

A decade in the past. Her thumb ran over his skin and he remembered what he was talking about – and continued. “When we got there, he set up a telescope. I knew he didn’t have one—he had rented it just for tonight. We didn’t sleep, though we had brought bags and a tent. I spent the whole of the night wide-awake with my curiosity and wonder running rampant. My parents were furious because I was so tired when I got home. But not even that couldn’t stop me from feeling… radiant. I had the best night I could have asked for. It’s something I will not forget.”

When he finally fell silent, he focused on his breathing. An even in and out. Steady, absolute. No tumultuous feeling, no alterations to sweet him away. Then quite swiftly they stopped, Jupiter pulling away from him, leaving him feeling cold where her body had been beside him. She spoke to him, so earnest, so softly, so pure. His heart thumped painfully, making him feel ill all over again, his legs weak and body warm. She was thanking him for sharing a memory.

Thanking him.

“Of course… You’re—you’re welcome." The Galactic Boss did not even know if that was an appropriate response. All he knew was that they were walking slowly, moving forward at their own rate. And sure enough, they moved slower and slower as time went on, as the night marched on for them – and Cyrus found he did not mind at all. Her company had become...a comfort, he would dare to say. Something he was accustomed to, that he wanted beside him. Despite the bitterness of recollection, she managed to temper the edge of the pain.

And he feared. He feared that when they finally left one another that it would all come back to him in a tumble, a sickening, damaging tumble that would leave him lost and without breath. The pain of memory would keep him awake till dawn came to Sinnoh once more.

They paused. It was the end of the line, it was time for them to part. He fought the urge to shuffle his feet, not wanting her to leave, to wanting to face the weight emotions brought down on him alone. She smiled at him and he could not so much as smile back, filled with worry for the near future, hardly registering that this would be the end of a legitimately pleasant time. As her hands held his, as she moved closer and her chest brushed his own, he could do nothing, say nothing. The only movement about him was the rise and fall of his breathing, the way his eyes darted across her face...the motion of the blood rushing to his cheeks and coloring them.

His own pulse thumped in his ears, deafening. Her eyes flickered from his lips to his eyes, and he did not know what it was that she was insinuating, what it was that she wanted. There was no reason for this closeness, his logic told him. No reason at all. She wants something, racing conscious thought replied. I don't know what.

Cyrus' body reacted to the question, opening his mouth in a wide, questioning circle. A silent stare.

All his thoughts were shutting down, he was going blank. Blank as her hands moved to his elbows, blank as he felt her heartbeat atop his. Blank, as their noses touched and unconscious brain regulation made him pull in a deep, sharp sigh to try and fill his aching lungs. Had he stopped breathing? He could not say.

Round full lips pressed against his. He was stiff. His eyes remained open and he looked down at her, across her features, closer than he had ever been to anyone in the past. He could see the curve of her lid covering her eyes, he could see the pores of her skin. He could not breathe; this time he knew that.

In response she pulled away; a brief respite. But as he felt her hands change grip slightly, noticed her body move forward once more he braced himself. And this time he would be able to react.

But how?

It turned out that his body had its own ideas of how to react. All the tenseness in his muscles finally gave, causing him to pull backwards slightly; a reaction in time with her kiss. A small gasp escaped his mouth – one from surprise, from uncertainty.

And then the touch of her lips, her chest against his, was gone.

Cyrus had to blink a few times at his Commander in order to collect himself, to capture her apology. Her hands were sliding away from him and he did not want that – even though he had been confused it was not that he did not enjoy the contact.

Enjoy it. Who would have known?

“It-It's okay.” He nearly slurred his words in his rush to reply to her – cutting her off accidentally in the process. In a very weak, desperate attempt to keep her contact just a moment longer, his fingers curled upwards around hers – and then they slipped away.

There was a feeling of desperation within him now. Of loneliness. A distinct sadness that he could not shake and was all too familiar with – but now it was stronger than ever. His lips curled into a gentle frown, eyebrows pulled low in a look of almost-concern; he did not want her to fear him for an action performed in a moment. An action he had enjoyed, that he would not mind again.

At his words, Jupiter's head snapped back to look at him, their eyes meeting. Cyrus felt his cheeks heat once more – he could not handle her look so tender. He had never been looked at like that. And it made him...uncomfortable, almost. Unsure, most definitely. She breathed his name out, catching his hands up and pulling them to her chest so that he could feel the gentle beating beneath his palm like the wings of a Butterfree...

He lifted his eyes from their entwined hands and looked back into hers – into the light of happiness that was purely etched into her features. In a moment her hands left his, were placed on his cheeks – gentle and warm. He felt the urge to lean into one of them, to rest his cheek in the smooth curve of her skin, but then she was plastered close to him, their bodies touching, her lips meeting his. He parted his lips to gasp, his breathing stopping in surprise once more. He could feel her tongue slide across his trapped upper lip before their kiss deepened – and he leaned into it, sighing softly.

Was this how affection, pure and romantically loving, was supposed to be?

He did not notice how red his face had become, feeling heated through the whole of his body. As he pressed her forehead to his, he looked into her eyes with a feeling of complete and absolute tenderness, all his turmoils and pains forgotten for the moment. This time he did lean his head into her hand when her thumb stroked his cheek, feeling contented at the gentle pressure. And then it was gone, her fingertips lightly tracing his collarbone, making him feel cold and hot all at once, gooseflesh rushing on his skin. “I enjoyed tonight, Cyrus.”

His lips moved about his words awkwardly, slowly; all because he was shocked at his answer. “I...enjoyed myself, too...?” How could he? He had given up trying to resist the advances she made, yes, but he had enjoyed it, and that was the honest truth. Now all the heat within him turned to an icy chill, feeling only colder when she disappeared through the hotel doors.

This was not good, by no means at all was this good. In letting his guard down he had sacrificed his well being in the end – he was now vulnerable, more vulnerable than ever before – even after he had sworn to himself he would never be in a position where one person could hurt his heart any further than it had been.

“What have I allowed?” The Galactic Boss questioned the night sky, the stars above his head. “And why did I allow it?” 

[uncloudedoutlook]

Death of the Sun and Moon || UT Open

He had to focus on his breathing to keep it steady and controlled. Though he was alone he did not want to lose his calm now – how could he lose his calm now?

But that was a stupid question where the Galactic Leader was concerned; he had let his guard down and invited the woman into his heart, where only the goal had been before. There, she had built a nest of his arteries and his veins and settles in, making it her new home where she would sleep with all her warmth lighting him from the inside – and none of it wanted.

A wave of fire coursed through Cyrus’ veins, the memory of soft lips causing a wave of emotion to crash through every inch of his body. His hand slammed onto the door, the other fumbling to open it as Cyrus half-dazedly stumbled out of his office before composing himself. He had to get outof this place, into clean air and away from the halls that shehad walked with him.

Many Grunts greeted him as their leader moved about the halls. The answer he gave them was a wave of his hand or a nod of his head – simple and noncommittal, as well as completely normal.

It was only when he exited into the clear air of Veilstone that he realized he had not breathed a word to anybody of where he was going. No, he was not able to tell anyone, he reasoned, not if he did not know where it was he was going himself.

In Canalave City the spray had bathed his face lightly while the woman nesting in his heart had told a story of a Feebas directed towards him. What did she think the words would matter to him? Did she think that he would be inspired, that he would turn to her and thank her for them? She was not a foolish woman, she could not have thought so.

Or had his lowered barriers given her that thought? That he was open to touch, to kiss, to hold?

His cheeks were wet, but he was rather certain that he had not reached Route 215 with all its constant rainfall yet. He brought up his hand, dabbing at his eyes with the edge of his overlarge sleeve. Had his sleeves always hung off of his body so? He remembered her, telling him, no, forcing him to eat even though it was not her place. Perhaps that was the only thing she was right about. That was the only thing she could be right about…

This was all her doing, the doing of a woman who pushed just that bit too far. Cyrus finally stopped, sinking down to the ground with his elbows on his knees, head laying in his hands. What a nightmare this had become! He lifted his head away again, staring blankly down at the bandage over his left hand.

He, the emotionless one, the Galactic Leader, had thrown the glass and broken it. The wounds that the glass had etched into his skin were his doing, but beneath that lay the new mess of his circulation, that nest in his heart. Each pump caused an ache, his breaths feeling pained. Had she taken his lungs too, denying him breath if it was breath not for her?

Cyrus stumbled up again after a moment, continuing to meander into the rain of Route 215. The downpour greeted him with a new kind of weight – the physical weight of the heavy weather. It was much better than the knot in his heart or the airless lungs that he now possessed. He turned his head up into the rain, squinting as it poured down.

The only salvation now would be the creation of his new world, he decided. There was no other hope for him in this world, no other chance for peace. 

Despite being completely absorbed in his distress, Cyrus was able to make out a figure approaching him through the rain. It seemed as though they had seen him, that they were coming to help; but he needed no help. As to, hopefully, look just a bit less pathetic than he was making himself out to be, the man stood up straighter on legs that felt so faint it was almost as though they were no longer there to support him.

And, like a statue, stone cold and too strong to damage, he stood still. Waiting for the stranger to approach. 

[scientificcolress-deactivated20]

Bored in a Boat - Open

Colress sighed as he tossed a pokeball up in the air continuously. He was bored, hiding in the Plasma frigate with little to do and only grunts to visit. His research had gone on a downhill slope since the breakup of Team Plasma. He had no money to put into it nor a decent place to conduct it, aside from the shabby boat he was currently staying in. To put it simply, he was bored out of his mind.

The scientist huffed another sigh and moved to put his feet up on the desk, leaning back in his seat. He put his hands behind his head and yawned. That was when the door clicked open. He huffed and waved a hand at the intruder, not even turning to see who it was. “I told everyone not to disturb me. Can’t you see I am busy?” Of course, he wasn’t busy but he also didn’t want to deal with the grunts. Though he didn’t see who the person was, the only person he could think of who it would be was a grunt.

[uncloudedoutlook]

If Cyrus were to be completely honest with himself, he did not enjoy Unova as much as he thought he would have initially – or perhaps it was just that he did not enjoy the season he had chosen for his visit. While Sinnoh's freezing temperatures were not the most pleasant thing in all the world, they were home – and so the summer did not suit him well, bearing the additional reminder of his days on the beaches of his hometown. This was made worse only by his close proximity to the water – not something he would usually do unbidden, however this time there was a reason to it. A little something of interest he wanted to find.

And find it he did. The side of the so-called Plasma Frigate was somewhat majestic, so far as the blending of science and traditional marine shape went. It was like nothing Cyrus had ever seen, and he knew in that moment that this excursion would more than pay off. He ran his tongue along his cracked, dry lips and made his way slowly around the body of the ship in the dying light of the day, eyes searching for the gangplank. Upon finding that, the blue-haired man took in a deep breath and placed a false face of confidence despite the – quite annoying – anxiety thumping in his chest.

Strangely enough his appearance onto the ship was met only with a few dull, questioning looks from the aimlessly milling occupants. None of them seemed to possess any kind of commanding presence, and so he walk through the ship, hunting for somebody – anybody – that stuck out as being in charge. This yielded no results to the man from Sinnoh, and so he found himself standing awkwardly by in the center of one of the lower deck rooms till he was approached.

“What are you looking for here? There's nothing for you.” The person spoke through some kind of mask that muffled their voice slightly, but they spoke with such force – surprising considering the aimlessness they had been showing before, like the rest of the crew – that each word came through clearly. Cyrus fluttered his eyes closed and open again in a slight show of his surprise at this, and then replied, “Where is the person in charge here?”

With a somewhat irritated snort, the person gestured to a door off to the side. “Nobody is really 'in charge' anymore, buddy. But if you want the self-declared scientist, he's over there. Said not to be bothered, though.”

“Than-” The stranger was already leaving as Cyrus began to speak the words, and so he dropped his voice, whispering into the air the tail-ends of his words, “-k you.”

Shuffling his feet in place before turning about and moving towards the door he was directed to, Cyrus pondered over what this person was like to deserve such a display of scorn. Perhaps it was arrogance? Opening the door he was met with a rather sour greeting.

So, perhaps it was an unpleasant personality.

“Ahem. That's unpleasant. And here I was coming to have a scientific discussion on the propulsion and use of energy in this frigate. It sparked my interest, yes. I heard it can fly.”  

[uncloudedoutlook]

Late-Night Jubilife || Archer & Cyrus

[anathemaniacal-deactivated20141]

"You think me a snake." Archer purred, eyes glimmering with nothing short of hatred. "You think that I am a venomous creature ready to sink my fangs into your precious flesh? To taint your lifesblood? I think I shall take that as a compliment. The more venomous a creature is, the more beautiful they appear."

He crossed leg primly once more, his smirk paper thin, ready rip at any moment. He was ready to strike for a weak point if he could, to rip the man’s confidence away from him, to pull his holier-than-thou facade away and trample him like the insect he was.

"I do believe you to be a spider. You’re waiting so patiently, spinning out a delicate web of lies, waiting for a little fly to bumble right into your trap. Then you’ll strike. I know your type. You’re crafty, unusual, but your fabrications are utterly ingenuous.”

Archer pressed his knuckles to his temple, watching his host with half lidded eyes. He allowed his gaze to travel to the man’s pale throat, easily locating his pulse point. He seemed relaxed, but the executive couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel under his hands. Would his pulse flutter like a captive bird? Would he struggle and gasp for breath as beautiful purple bands encircled his unblemished flesh?

"Let’s forgo this talk of insects and venom. I’m interested in your work here. What are you campaigning? A cleaner, fresher world? It is clean energy, yes? Or is that another lie? I’ve seen your men milling around like mindless zombies. They’re unpredictable, chaotic. They don’t seem to realize that they’re only going to hinder your plans. You don’t seem the type for wanting to rule a single region, so taking Sinnoh is out of the question."

He trailed off, looking a little more than pleased with himself, “Why, Cyrus, are you looking for world domination? You hardly seem the type, yet you exhibit all of the traits of a tyrant.”

[uncloudedoutlook]

He, a tyrant? Such an absolutely ridiculous image. He hardly wanted tyranny – he wanted freedom. Freedom from emotional turmoil and the battle against the forces of inner pain and suffering. Freedom from torment that would not cease and could not be moved past. Cyrus' brow raised, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as he fixed the other man in a slightly sharper look. If this was not an uncomfortable situation he did not know what was – this sly-speaking Seviper was holding his gaze without any hesitation, without a hint of anything but amusement and scorn.

“Clean energy is not a lie – it is something we at Galactic strive towards. I don't know where you would have possibly gotten such an idea of crookedness from- but I can assure you it is absolutely untrue. I myself hail from Sunyshore, and as you must know, the energy for that massive city is provided by the sun. I seek to find methods of fuel to match the efficiency and the cleanliness of that method I was exposed to throughout my childhood. Call it a naïve inspiration if you will – but I trust in it.” As he finished the miniature speech, he cleared his throat, idly adjusting the sleeves of his shirt – were they always this ill fitting?

“As for those who work for me...do not pass judgment upon them. Though they may be, perhaps, not the brightest of all men and women, their passion for our work is unmatched. That is where their real worth lies: if one does not believe in the paths that they tread, then what should it matter? Their efforts would be lackluster and rather pathetic.” Beyond that, the unsaid; that he needed fools to not question a word of what he said, to do everything and anything he ordered them to. That was all they were good for, grunt word: after all, what other use was there for idiots?

“But what do you know on such a subject? You are obviously a very intelligent man yourself – but have you had experience commanding others? Do you prefer brutes and hell-raisers to the loyal and trustworthy? Is that what your leaderships requires? If so, then I would not like to see what your organization is like – it seems far too cruel in an existence already quite harsh.”

Certainly, though this man was thin and appeared to be unable to hold his own in any rough fight, he had a certain brutish danger that lurked beneath the venomous surface. All quite primitive. Did no soul think for themselves?  

[disastronautkid-deactivated2014]

Curious Minds || Cyrus and Hulda

Rumors had it that Team Galactic were creating a bomb.

"Did you hear? Apparently we’re bombing one of the lakes!"

And it was going to be used in an attempt to capture… Something.

Sat at one of the many desks in the building, Hulda was lazily typing away at a half-assed report, her mind wandering in other places. HQ seemed a lot more… ‘Alive’ today, purely due to rumors spreading like wildfire. First it was ‘Team Galactic are creating a bomb!’, then ‘we’re blowing up a lake!’? What next? She was about to return to her typing when she felt someone tap her shoulder lightly. Looking up, she saw it was one of the higher-ranking grunts… S-12? She didn’t know, all these code names confused her.

"H-47? Meeting, now." And without another word, he left, probably to inform other grunts. Meeting? Where? He didn’t even bother to tell her! The grunt huffed slightly as she stood up from her desk, stretching her arms slightly. There were a few other grunts in the same room as her who began making there way out, towards one of the main halls. So they must be going to the meeting too, Hulda thought, deciding it would be a good idea to follow them out into the narrow corridor.

It was, literally, a sea of bowl cuts in the corridors. Hulda, being one of the smallest there, struggled to see where she was actually going, and was pushed in several directions, along with the rest of the crowd. It must be a pretty important meeting if they’re cramming this many people into one hall, she thought to herself as she was roughly shoved into the large hall, where many grunts began standing like they would in any meeting. Hulda took her place a couple rows from the front, peering over a few teal heads to see what was happening.

Suddenly, cheering. And clapping. Lots of cheering and clapping. Why were people so excited all of a sudden- oh. There was going to be a speech.

Given by Cyrus.

The cheering and yelling died down eventually, allowing the Galactic boss to speak. What he was saying at first was confusing for Hulda to understand, but then again, wasn’t everything that came out of his mouth? Hulda found herself squinting almost, trying to put the pieces together- wait.

The rumors. Were they… True? Blowing up a lake… Was that part of his plan? Hulda was tempted to raise her hand or shout out questions, but no one ever did that. They just followed orders. All she did was make a small noise of frustration, a bit louder than intended, causing a few grunts nearby to turn around and shoot her a glare.

…

Once he finished his speech, Cyrus turned and walked away from the balcony he had given his speech from, probably to speak with a Commander or something. Slowly, the hall began to empty, leaving Hulda standing, occupied by her own thoughts. Naturally, she began to question everything Cyrus had spoken about just now, but one question stood out from all the others; what was Cyrus up to?

[uncloudedoutlook]

Rampant rumors were nothing out of the ordinary, sure enough, but it was never any less annoying to the leader of Team Galactic. It was...healthy to allow the Grunts to stretch their foolish little lesser minds, but there was a point it all became ridiculous, and this was one of them. Particularly because it was something very close to the real truth of it all...meaning someone very high up in his trust had decided to let a little this or that slip...

Charon, perhaps. The old man would do anything to get under the skin of his betters and superiors. Perhaps it was jealousy, maybe it was just plain maliciousness. Cyrus wasn't a man who could travel time and see if Charon was always this much of a pain – and frankly he didn't care. There were more important things to do, and far more important things to take care of.

A speech to be made.

The applause he received as soon as he stepped out onto the balcony was maniacal. They followed him as though he were some sort of cult god; they were blind to anything else, completely fanatic. This pathetic hive mind worked to his advantage, for sure, but it was something he found decidedly disgusting. How could they even bear to live without thinking for themselves? Did they honestly not notice that they were just playing a game of follow the leader like children through the whole of their lives?

He paused to allow the applause and cheering to die, his expression stoic, immovable. They had no clue at all of the way he really felt for them, the way he simply disdained them. When all was silence, finally, blessed silence, he stepped forward and cleared his throat – the sign that he would tolerate no more of their babbling.

“As you must have already assumed, I am here to make an important announcement.” Once again the babbling picked up – no doubt to talk about the rumors that had been going about. Fine then, he would play into their little imaginations. He would remain vague, let them assume things. Let them run the wheels of their brains about. “Thanks to the hard work of my Commanders-” He had placed the plural there, even though it really had been only one. It had all been Jupiter, Jupiter and her dedication, her way of going about things...

That forceful way. That way that broke everything down. Everything to pieces.

“-And the dedication of all of you, Team Galactic has made very important headway in our goals.”

Truth, yes, a vague truth... even if he wasn't planning on remaining so mysterious, they didn't need to know the details. They merely needed to feel important. Feeling important kept them rooted in place. “Currently, the higher ups are working on a new project that will bring forth what we hope will be great results. This project, understand, is still a very new endeavor – so we will be keeping details very close – to just the higher ups.”

Murmurs of dissatisfaction and curiosity greeted his words – expected. They would have a thousand questions in their little heads but none of them would voice them; they never did. It was as though speaking their minds would destroy them, shake them completely to their core. Was thinking that hard?

That was all that. No matter what he said after that, he felt as though they absorbed none of it. They were too busy trying to figure out the big mystery, too busy trying to figure out what was going on. Ah, the things they would never place a hand in...

He ended early for him, turning his back with a noncommittal dismiss to the mindless masses. He knew they would leave as soon as he was gone, nothing left to tie them in place. Yet...one didn't leave, he found, wandering into the same room just a few minutes later. Lost in – of all things – thought, the female grunt stared into space, unfocused on anything. Cyrus made his way to her, getting very, very close – and still, he was not noticed!

The Boss cleared his throat, drawing the girl out of her reverie. Certainly, he could understand becoming lost in one's thoughts and forgetting where they stood, but did she not have some task to do? He decided to voice this concern – he may as well. “Are you without a task, then?” Though he posed the question softly, their was a note of authority in his voice.

A note that she would not be able to ignore.  

[uncloudedoutlook]

*GASP* What will Hulda say when she finds out you two are--????

"....What Hulda thinks doesn't affect me. Too much."

[uncloudedoutlook]

Jupiter's had many lovers, but none, it seems, she's wanted as badly as you. Why does she like you so much??

"..It's something I don't understand myself." 

[uncloudedoutlook]

would you say that Jupiter is "hot as hell" or "incredibly sexy"?

"I think the second one sounds....less vulgar? Neither would ever be uttered by my lips though..."

Extremely attractive is his phrase of choice

[uncloudedoutlook]

what would you do if Jupiter moaned another man's name when you two do the frick frack?

"I....suppose that it would only be....an accident? She has had...other lovers if I'm not mistaken.

..."

Wait a sec.

"But this is of no consequence as our relationship is nothing more than professional!"

He was sounding like a broken record...

[uncloudedoutlook]

'strictly professional' huh? but weren't you the one who got an obvious hard-on for her at that meeting? we all saw it, dude. you've got the hots for her

"T-Ah- Bo- Eck..."

Deep breath Cyrus.

"Bodily functions liek that are uncontrollable. It's a general concensus amoung the Grunts that Jupiter is, ah, attractive." 

[uncloudedoutlook]

Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me || Cyrus & Caitlin

[sleepymysticdreamypsychic-blog]

Caitlin enjoyed the rain. She liked to feel the raw power of the natural world. Feeling peaceful, she walked slowly along Route 215, heading generally in the direction of Veilstone City. The rain fell in thick droplets, plunking against her pale pink umbrella. She had come to Sinnoh to see her dear friend Cynthia. After spending a few days together, Cynthia had to attend to some of the many duties she had as the champion, so Caitlin was left to her own devices.

Caitlin had learned to take a little more time off from the league than she needed when she was traveling. She loved to wander aimlessly, to see where people and events and the land took her, to experience the other regions purely, without intentions or plans or worries.

As she rounded a corner, she noticed a figure moving somewhat erratically toward her. Coming closer, she saw that it was a man with a squarish jaw and a shock of slate blue hair. Caitlin watched as the man fell to his knees and cradled his head in his hands. He seemed to be in emotional pain, or else physically sick somehow. Concerned, she hastened her pace.

As she got closer to him she felt she crossed a threshold beyond which her blood lost its warmth and colors lost their luster. His energy felt cold and empty, like a vacuum, a void, deep space. Yet she also felt that this man’s heart was aching. In his pain she saw his humanity.

She raised her umbrella slightly to offer him shelter from the rain. He spoke brusquely.

“If you are thinking of trying to shield me from the water, do not bother. I am already soaked through – you would merely increase your own chances of getting wet and ruining your fine dress.”

"I suppose you’re right about that."

A moment passed silently while she hoped he might say something to explain his condition. 

"Look, I saw you collapse a moment ago. Are you alright? Can I help you?"

She looked him over, pity and compassion filling her heart.

"Why don’t we at least find somewhere to dry off. Surely whatever is troubling you will be helped by some warmth."

[uncloudedoutlook]

The look that he received from this girl was filled with a combination of warmth and pity. There was nothing Cyrus liked about that expression – it made him feel powerless, like he was something small and pathetic. Like he was something afraid.

He had sent hat look once before, when he was a child. His grandmother, whom he had loved but not been nearly as close to as his grandfather. She has always looked at him with that expression when he cried, when he sniffed and wallowed in his own inability to complete anything properly...

He wasn't that child any longer. He was a man, an adult. He could handle himself. He didn't need his hand held any longer.

“There is nothing that can be done. There is no help in this world for me.” It was easy to fix the aches and pains of a physical injury, be it a broken bone or a simple cut, but his wound was one of the heart and the cause was still nesting within. He lifted his hand and pressed it to his chest – a habit that had been common before it all, before her. But now instead of a passion, a belief in his plans he was pressing his hand to his heart to try and stop the inner bleeding.

Did she honestly think that a little bit of warmth, a little bit of dryness would cure everything? It was a naïve thought, a child’s assumption. But still he nodded, his eyes dead and dull and looking far past the blonde girl into the stormy skies.

Ah, the angry gray clouds did not care about what went on below them – they just rained upon everything equally. They did not kind broken hearts or lovers, both sets would be drenched. They felt nothing, experienced nothing – their presence was simply there. That was how Cyrus wanted to be – the world of the clouds was what he craved. Unfeeling, uncaring, distant.

If that was his world he would not have to hurt anymore. His eyes scrunched up slightly as he fought away the burning sensation behind his eyes. There would be none of that – it was stupid to indulge in such things.

“Let us go then. To Veilstone.” To be honest he did not want to go back – he did not want to risk finding one of his grunts wandering about, seeing him soaking and slack-faced. Without waiting for the girl to respond he steps away from the umbrella the girl held above him. Feeling the rain hit his shoulders again, he worked to compose himself. The physical sensation of dampness, the cold seeping deep into his bones. He was strong, he was relaxed. He was better than her and her touches, her subtle smiles.

Whatever the girl said – if she said anything at all – passed through his mind unregistered. Yes, sure it was rude, it was cold but he did not care – this girl had come to him of her own free will and now he had to compose himself, lock himself back up. But there was a sore in him anyways, swollen and painful, right where the lock sat. He could not bolt it tight and safe because it sent waves of pain through his core, caused a hitch in his breathing.

Because of it he could not recenter himself. Clenching his fists tight as the city rose into view, the head of Team Galactic forced himself to focus on his surroundings, to try and pay attention to that girl – if she was even still here, that was? He paused a moment, mid-step, turning about to check behind her. “I'm sorry for being unresponsive. I fear I am a bit lost within myself. Our goal is a coffee shop, or somewhere we can sit, yes?” It would make the most sense after all. It was cheap, open, and warm enough. He could treat her to a drink and hopefully, maybe, pretend he was fine enough to get her to leave him alone.

But he knew he would not be okay, he would not be fine. He had allowed himself to slip and from there, from one mistake, it was an uncontrollable roll downhill. 

[uncloudedoutlook]

What would you say if, hypothetically, you found out that your must trusted Commander was hopelessly in love with you?

"Theoretically, I would have to decline her. There is no place for romance in this place. It doesn't fit with our goals - it doesn't fit with anything. It might be hard but I retain faith in her. She would be able to accept it." 

[uncloudedoutlook]

Do you think there was another path you could have taken with your life? What would it be?

"...There's a lot of could say to this. But I won't. I think, perhaps, I might have been an actual businessman." 

He could have been good.