father judgment

[brattizen-blog]

ꜱᴇɴᴅ ᴛʜᴏꜱᴇ ᴩɪᴄꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍy ᴩʜᴏɴᴇ, 

                                                        ɢ ᴩ ᴏ y.

[brattizen-blog]

ᴡʜᴏ'ꜱ ʙᴀᴅ? ɪ'ᴍ ʙᴀᴅ! ɪ'ᴍ ꜱᴏ ʙᴀᴅ, ɪ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ꜱᴛᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛ!

Do you like your villains CAMPY? Do you like them LOUD and OBNOXIOUS? Or, more importantly, do you like your villains with an EXTRA DOSE of 1985? No, that’s not a joke - because here’s the guy for you! 

BALTHAZAR BRATT, of despicable me 3 is here to stay!  ᴸᴵᴷᴱ / ᴿᴱᴮᴸᴼᴳ if you are interested in this blast from the past supervillain with a heart as rotten as days-old dollar-store bubblegum. 

CLIVE? HEIST MUSIC!

[vaterurteil-blog]

I spent the last 3 hours making this blog, so go ahead and follow if you like. I'll get it up and running tomorrow, since I'm spent tonight. The activity tracker has been updated. Good night everyone!

[vaterurteil-blog]

cardcaptis:

                                   ❝ that bear — it’s syaoran - kun . see the wings ? i made                                                                 them myself , with my own pattern . ❞

                                                         @vaterurteil ：sc !

"My, that looks beautiful. The wings especially give about a sense of weightlessness - you truly do care about that boy, with such attention to detail - do you not?"

"Oh, Father Winter - that would be MORE than just that; she clearly ADORES him! It's most wonderful - the more love in this world, the better!"

"...Sister Ai, please."

[vaterurteil-blog]

evolutioniisms:

                         Akala Island. Blanche’s home island, where they desperately wanted to get away from as a child but now could not help but return to as an adult. Not only for nostalgia’s sake, but also RESEARCH – Z-moves were technically considered a part of Candela’s field of study, as they are generally attributed to having most of, if not all, their basis in strength. They could be used by any stage of evolution, but Blanche wanted to know WHY, and if it had anything to do with Mega Evolution. This was their own personal research: funded by themself, as all of their funding from the Go program went towards evolutionary studies. 

                             They couldn’t quite bring themself to do much poking around where they were now though – the Ruins of Life were a holy ground for the denizens of Akala, just as all the ruins were for their respective island. However, to find a stranger – VERY OBVIOUSLY an OUTSIDER trespassing in this ancient sanctum, they could not hold back their anger, taking form of glowing blue eyes, frost creeping over the skin on their left side:

     ❛ I DEMAND to know who you are and what you think you’re doing here. ❜   

@vaterurteil

It seems my travels are always to be met with dissenters - no matter what I may do, this is not entirely uncommon. Those who believe that they are the authorities on ruins, historical landmarks, places of spiritual worship - they are the ones to be bypassed, rather than dealt with. And yet, the faint blue encroaching on their left cheek was enough for me to question what it was about my presence that inspired such hostility - I had done nothing to warrant it.

Although, perhaps, I had stepped on sacred ground that was, in their mind, not worthy of my being there.

Unfortunate, yet curious - yet this person's response deserves one of my own, after being disrespected, or being told that I cannot do something when this is a site specifically quarried off for historic research.

"My identification? Fair enough." I begin, looking them square in the eye. I pat Flieger, his wings flapping once or twice, as he lets out a soft grunt. He does not wear his helmet today, as this is not a business day - but rather, a travelling one. And as long as none were around, I suppose that can be said. 

"I am V. - a traveller, nothing more. I investigate spiritual landmarks, for one - perhaps you may relax, a bit. As far as I am concerned, I am allowed to be here - as an observer, and as a documenter. Your hostility is unwarranted, if I may say."

[vaterurteil-blog]

15, 27, 35

✙ MANIPULATE MY BLOOD ✙:  

15. What kind of inner life do they have — rich and imaginative? Calculating and practical? Full of doubts and fears? Does it find any sort of outlet in their lives?

V.’s inner life is probably a mixture of both calculating/practical and doubtful/fearful, the latter being moreso directed at himself. The former is about how he processes information that he takes in, be it his surroundings, his relationships with others, or his learned information from books and his travels.   

An important detail about V.’s entire existence is that it is painted by a very profound sense of guilt. He has often doubted himself and what he stands for, questioning his sense of justice, the true meaning behind good and evil, and all the moral questions that come with taking on a mission as enormous as his. Does there even exist such an Order, or was the Cleanse merely an event that just occurred, and would never occur again?

All of these questions and more plague him, although the guilt is a more private feeling; so perhaps it can be classified as shame, as he shares it with no one but himself and his journals.

27. What do they strongly like and dislike, in any category? Why?

V. is not someone to strongly like or dislike anything, although he does tend to have some strange hobbies. He does definitely enjoy keeping to himself and helping others through times of crisis - this gives him the most fulfillment above all else, which is why he took on students in the first place. He admits that he wishes he were closer to them, although this is something he feels he is unworthy of doing due to his Vigilante duties.

In terms of strong dislikes, V. despises those who do not know their place, are outwardly disrespectful or a bit too hedonistic (which is ironic given some members of his parish, like Aelis or Darius). However, what he dislikes most are those who act terribly arrogant about their place in the universe - those who believe the world is centered around them. He believes in being humble as a human being above all else, and simply cannot stand those types of people. Why he feels this way, and so strongly, is probably because he is terrified of being like them himself. His attempts at being as humble as possible is to avoid gaining a God Complex, since he believes that anybody can attain one if they do not keep themselves in check.

His dislikes are reflections of his fears, in other words.  

35. How and why do they internalize knowledge? What effect has that had on them?

Already answered!

[vaterurteil-blog]

11. How are they vocally expressive? What kind of voice, accent, tones, inflections, volume, phrases and slang, and manner of speaking do they use?

✙ MANIPULATE MY BLOOD ✙:

11. How are they vocally expressive? What kind of voice, accent, tones, inflections, volume, phrases and slang, and manner of speaking do they use?

V. is a soft-spoken man who very rarely emotes - his word choice is rather grandiose, but not so much to suggest that he is anything but a humble man. He is frequently calm, only raising his voice if he is mildly irritated with one of his students, or if something has angered him - both of which are rather rare. He is able to control himself under most circumstances, which is a trait he has arduously worked on since he was a child. 

His voice is actually indicative of his way of survival - to be in control at all times; you will rarely find him having a staccato to his words, raising his voice as mentioned above, or showing any sort of variation in his speech. While a quiet speaker, his voice certainly commands authority, as this is not lost on those who speak with him (and respect his position for the most part). It is certainly understood among his students.

However, if one were to truly anger V. on a level that they did not expect, they would get a voice that is still calm - yet trembling with a deep and profound rage. His words become harsher, although control is still present. This is perhaps one of his most terrifying traits.

His control.

[vaterurteil-blog]

33, 35, 41

✙ MANIPULATE MY BLOOD ✙:   

33. How do they learn about the world–what is their preferred learning style? Hands-on learning with trial and error? Research, reading, and note-taking? Observation or rote memorization? Inductive or deductive reasoning? Seeking patterns and organization? Taking things apart and putting them back together? Creative processing via discussing, writing about, or dramatizing things?

V. is curious in that he has multiple ways of learning about the world - while he seeks quite a bit of his historical information from books, he also travels to various historical landmarks and famously spiritual places - like villages or towns that have beliefs that fascinate him. He tries to link everything back to Himiko’s Cleanse, and wants to know how many people remember it, if at all, and also wants to eventually learn about how many people know of the Richter bloodline.

Frighteningly enough, V.’s photographic memory has allowed him to be an arduous note-taker, as he has several journals where he keeps track of his findings, hoping to learn from what he has thought about and discovered on his travels. He takes note of facial features, expressions of people, and what those people have said to him. There is a file on every student in his parish, for example, which he keeps hidden from them. He has knowledge on things even they do not know about, like the whereabouts of Lenore’s birth parents. However, he will not divulge that information until the time comes.

He is a philosophizer, most definitely, about his thoughts. However, he mostly debates these things with himself and with the books he reads; he does not truly consider anyone close enough to him to divulge what he thinks about on a daily basis.

However, one of his lesser known methods of learning is his (rather crude, in his opinion) desire to learn from his mistakes. He takes failures very harshly, and will do anything to make sure they are not repeated ever again - this is mostly done when he is conducting his “mission” more than anything else. That is why it is difficult to catch him in moments of self-doubt, although he can often be found internalizing it in private.

35. How and why do they internalize knowledge? What effect has that had on them?

V. internalizes what he has learned because he feels it is essential to not only his development as a human being, but also the mission he must undertake. This began when he was a sickly child, reading the books of his family’s past as well as learning about the various myths of the different regions on Earth. He knew that in some point in his life, he wanted to record the history of the world - although the discovery of his family’s secret greatly disturbed him, both with regard to his faith at the time and his trust in his parents.

Now, the internalization of knowledge is to sharpen his mind and keep himself adaptive to his surroundings - this might include environmental awareness, memories of a person, or keeping his emotions in check/how to deal with his thoughts and feelings. He refuses to be behind the curve. Because of this disciplined way of life, V. has become a very skilled hunter and Trainer, although he is still growing in both mind and spirit; sometimes, he thinks far too deeply about things, and can seem a bit distant or emotionally unavailable. This is likely one of his biggest weaknesses.

41. What associations do they bring to mind? Words or phrases, images, metaphors or motifs? Why?

V.’s existence brings about imagery/motifs of the Gothic and dark - the unlit cathedral apse with candles dimly flickering and not a soul in sight. The admin most definitely thinks of the world of Bloodborne, as it was her inspiration when she started putting V. together from scratch. However, she also considers the world of H.P. Lovecraft, as well as the choral hymns of both the Renaissance and the Harpsichord Concertos of Bach while writing him. 

[vaterurteil-blog]

melancholia.

Distant choral voices far beneath me chant, echoing in the halls of this massive cathedral. I, its watchful Vicar, sit in my room, looking out the window. 

It would be impossible to see me from the ground, as its massive height nearly pierces the sky, and the width is far too gargantuan for the average person to observe the very top when looking upon it for the first time.

The clear night made it possible for me to see the moon in all its pale glory, where the soft light came into the window, making the palms of my hands ever the more pallid in its glow. I turn my hand back and forth in front of me, observing the motion as I do. The veins inside were filled with blood - the Altered Blood - of times long gone. The ancestry that plagued my being had infected me with it; this was not by choice. And as far as I knew, my parents, too, had used my body for their experiments. The syringes filled to the brim with that substance, preparing to change what was within for what was supposedly "the greater good", "family tradition", and "the family secret".

The family secret...

Bells overpower the voices in an instant, causing my to grip my hand tightly into a balled fist. It seems that Ai has rang the bell to end the day, although it is late at night. The cathedral now closed, worship time over, all the students would go to their dormitories, lie in their beds, and allow their dreams to overtake their waking lives - perhaps a better alternative, as conscious thoughts could be so... so terribly...

Troublesome.

And yet.

I let out a soft sigh as I rest both of my arms on the windowsill, and kneel before the moonlight. I rest my head on my hands, closing my eyes and observing nothing but blackness. The sounds shall overtake me now.

The bell's echo, deep and grand, fills the entirity of the cathedral; despite its distance from my room, it is easily heard among the other sounds.

Distant chatter among my students. However, I cannot make them out. I wonder what they discuss - I wonder what they speak of, as the night truly begins, and their studies are over? I cannot ask. Not because I do not want to, but because it is not my place.

And as for I... 

I hear nothing after a moment. The echoes become just that - echoes. Silence begins to overpower it, leaving me alone in this small top floor room with only the most powerful of thoughts - a constant stream of consciousness that would always exist within me. A memory. Many memories. Sensory snapshots of times long gone. When the bullet went through their skull. When their corpse lay on the ground. When the moon shone overhead, making clear that a crime had been committed...

A crime.

Was it?

Was it...

How terrible it is, to be left alone with silence.

[vaterurteil-blog]

"What's holding you back?"

✙ PRIVATE QUESTIONS TO BE ANSWERED HONESTLY ✙:

The question, uttered by one so terribly kind and just, echoed in my mind as I stood there, my eyes staring straight ahead. It seemed as though the room was filling with a thick black ooze - a cloud of darkness impossible to deny.

“Curious. I find this inquiry of yours rather… bold, if I do say so. In truth, I cannot give you the full answer.” I respond, still keeping my gaze focused on what lay before me. A blank darkness - musky with the rancid stench of age. That pledge of mine must never be forgotten. The promise must never be altered. The rules must never be bent for the sake of my mission. Though vastly important, what dominated my heart was…

“Though, perhaps I can give you a smidgen of it - I do not wish to do anything unnecessary.”

Without thinking into the implications, I have already begun speaking of the pain that lay deep within; stabbing, rhythmic, about as equal as the pounding of my heart to sustain my being. 

“The thought of resorting to drastic measures is not what the Order dictates. While the universe should remain intact at all costs, it should not be at the price of an innocent life.” I say, bowing my head in silence. Up above, I imagine that the air is empty, filled with nothing but the atmospheric pressure and the vast, unexplored vestibule of space. Wherever the Creator was, they were certainly not interested in addressing the issue at hand. I was, for lack of a better term…

Left to my own devices.

“And that is why I hold back. Because I cannot bear the thought of… having a cleanblood’s life senselessly ended by my hand.”

Guilt. Sorrow. Redemption. Words that meant so little, connoted so little, in the grand scheme of things. The depths of my feelings perhaps encapsulated all three at the very least.

Grief. Melancholy. Isolation.

Yes.

These were far more accurate. Yet they would never be uttered.

Not while I draw breath.

[vaterurteil-blog]

"I never understood how someone could say those words so easily."

✙ PRIVATE QUESTIONS TO BE ANSWERED HONESTLY ✙: 

You are a threat.

Those were the words that I had let spill, as I am wont to do; though none shall know the truth behind my identity. This is the truth, given that I am so careful about what I reveal, and what I let bask in the back of my mind like thick silk cocoon - deceptively soft to the touch, yet tough as iron if one were to attempt cutting its strings loose.

“Are you surprised?” I inquire, my gaze not once leaving her. The truth was that not a thing I had said was untrue - she was, to put it simple, a hotbed for those known as Ultra Beasts. Creatures from another realm. Beings that could completely rupture the fabrics of time and space as humanity and Pokemon-kind knew it. They were not to be trusted.

And neither was she, as far as I was concerned.

“You consort with the likes of Ultra Beasts, therefore my opinion shall not be changed. Be it a child or an adult, you are a threat. Or rather, you are a factor in a larger threat - this is the truth, whether you realize it or not.” I continue, allowing my words to become heavier, loftier - shadows of the truth lying deep within the depths of my soul. What broils inside my fingers, my heart, my mind - not disgust, hardly, but a deep conviction that could only manifest itself in the realization of my goals.

There was absolutely no chance I would falter. Regardless of age. Regardless of identity. Anything… anyone… 

Everything under the sun was fair to be placed under my watchful eye - such was the way of the Order. Such was my own philosophy, having spanned back from when I was a young man.

“What I am telling you is not a product of my religion, but a warning. Do you understand?”

[vaterurteil-blog]

☩ 🇧🇪🇦🇸🇹🇸 🇦🇱🇱 🇴🇻🇪🇷 🇹🇭🇪 🇸🇭🇴🇵… 🇾🇴🇺'🇱🇱 🇧🇪 🇴🇳🇪 🇴🇫 🇹🇭🇪🇲… 🇸🇴🇴🇳🇪🇷 🇴🇷 🇱🇦🇹🇪🇷. ☩

       ind. / sel. / semi-priv. ORIGINAL CHARACTER for “POKEMON”

              home. I bio. I rules. I members of the congregation. 

[nxctxm]

Hunter become the Hunted (closed for vaterurteil)

[vaterurteil-blog]

nxctxm:

@vaterurteil

Oh..? Was this a human…? Were they from the future, or simply from another dimension?

Either way… he was trespassing on his domain.

Passing over tormented souls that he has captured with his Nightmare, the Darkrai stood in front of this other, icy blue eyes piercing the shadows and ruby adornment glowing with the same power that keeps these Pokemon in a constant nightmare.

“I’ve not seen humans for a great age… and I would prefer it that way. Leave this place before you join these insignificant creatures in an endless slumber…”

This had been a long time coming, no doubt about that.

The eve of the moon guardian's slaughter, I had felt a great tremor in the order of the universe. The horror that had occurred, the great unbalance between light and dark - far too absolute for my tastes, and yet the Order's beliefs had been violated all the same. These types of incidents were precisely what I wished my parish to look out for - though, this was a calamity on such a grand scale that it was necessary for me to go after it.

Darkrai. The mysterious Pokemon of nightmares. Harbinger of darkness. Even those accustomed to the night were terrified of it - a creature that haunts the dreams of its victims. Ready and willing to take control of their very minds. Such creatures, those that slaughtered without just cause, those that sought to unravel the delicate threads that held the order together...

This is what my mission is for.

At its booming voice, authoritative and commanding, I dismount off of Flieger, who appears more than ready to take on this foe. It has faced countless members like it; although, this time it is a bit different. Even I, an experienced hunter, know that this Pokemon is not to be trifled with - this shall not be an easy fight.

"I must respectfully decline," I begin, allowing Flieger to take flight alongside me. I keep close to it, surveying my surroundings as I walk forward. This domain is an unusual one - how I entered was by experience alone. Observing this creature for the time I had was plenty of time to locate where a hole in the fabric of space and time might lie. "You are not to be disturbed unless you do something to violate the Order that Arceus has set in place. However..."

"That is not the case. You have murdered Cresselia, your dear counterpart. And for that, you must be eliminated."

[vaterurteil-blog]

neuronjxlly:

A man? Staring? It wasn’t the first time. Fully evolved Reuniclus were rare sights, both in Unova and, well, in wherever Gooble had found themselves. Another one of their periods where they lost focus of everything, simply bouncing along and seeing where the wind took them, had lead them here. Two foreign and strange people the Reuniclus didn’t recognize were looking them over.

What were they, exactly?

“Home? We all have home! Home now! Home with network! And we all appreciate the network!” Gooble’s words were… less than elucidating, as usual. They floated in the air, casting glances back at the man, at the woman, back at the man. The Reuniclus tilted their head to the side and thought for a moment.

“Unfamiliar… we are unfamiliar to this one, but this one is not to us! Not to us, no, one of us recognizes. One of the group has seen this one’s face before! We must consult! Consult with us, and then with this one! Consensus must be made, yes!” Gooble went silent again, their bouncing floats ceasing to where they hung in the air, perfectly still. After what seemed like hours, they moved again.

“Yes! The consultation has been completed, information retrieved from Maafala. This one is a father, not by blood, no, but by spirit! They have told us, they have seen you before! And now we all have seen you! Who is this one? This stranger? Tell us about the stranger! Give us knowledge to consult over, please!”

Listening to the creature speak was, quite frankly, an eye-opening experience. It seemed to be a hive mind of sorts, though perhaps this was not entirely accurate. The usage of "we" suggested a collectivism, and yet it appeared to have one body; mostly when one thinks of hive minds, they think of bees led by a leader that commanded them justly. Yet this... this seems rather different. Although, at the current moment, it is impossible to tell just how different it is.

Still, its questions must be answered - it is clearly ravenous for knowledge. Yet, it knows about me - this "Maafala" has identified me as a Father, not in "blood" but by "spirit" in its own words. Curious. Truly puzzling. Though perhaps their source of information was not how it was for humans - perhaps its collectivism was, for the most part, linked to a higher power that only it had access to.

But speculation would get me, and subsequently Ai, nowhere.

Before I can speak, Ai cuts in front of me, and kneels down in front of the creature. She takes something out of her pocket - a Pokedex decorated in flower stickers - and held it up in front of her new obsession. She smiles widely as she turns it on, although she does not make any movements to touch it.

"You want to know about me?" She asks, that smile not wavering even a bit. "Well, my name is Ai-Taiyang Tiankong! I am one of Father Winter's many students - or actually, a member of his parish. But you can call me Sister Ai! And I would love to know your name, of course." 

She searches the Pokedex for an entry on the Pokemon, and eventually finds it. Reuniclus, a native of Unova. 

"Oh wow! I've never seen one of these before, Father!" She cries, whipping her head back to face me. "It's from my home region! This is amazing! We have to let it stay!"

Every sentence she speaks is an exclamation, rising in excitement the more she talks. I look at her, and return her smile - although it is far more calm than hers.

"Now Sister, we shall not impose upon it. It is a sentient being, capable of thought and emotions, like you and I." Sometimes, making such statements is a necessity for some of the more excitable of my parish - they can be a bit childish at times, even the most mature. "Perhaps we may let it decide what it wishes to do, no?"

Ai's face falls ever so slightly, although returns to a more adult expression of acceptance - smile small, eyes understanding. She nods in silent agreement, as we both turn back to the creature - a Reuniclus - in perfect synchronization.

"And you are correct," I say to the Reuniclus. "I am indeed a Father in "spirit", as you say. This is my cathedral, after all. And you are our welcomed guest - clearly you have a rather... interesting manner of acquiring information. If you do not mind, I have a question to ask you..."

And indeed, this was the truth - that word stuck in my mind. Maafala. Fascinating, implying so much and so little at the same time. Even Ai looked quizzical at the mention of my requiring more information. She seemed to be of the persuasion that I had all the knowledge in the world. But of course... this is hardly true.

Preposterous, even.

"This Maafala you speak of. What is it, exactly, if you do not mind my asking? I have simply never heard it before; and in my experience, Pokemon do not generally... reach for such things with regard to gaining knowledge."

[vaterurteil-blog]

Do you hold any resentment towards your family?

✙ QUESTIONS BEST ANSWERED WITH HONESTY ✙:

Odd. 

Though they crossed my mind many a time, it was not frequent that I allowed the concept of resentment to pass through the depths. Emotions, especially my own, were oft considered irrespective of the task at hand - they were burdensome, only allowed to come into my thoughts when the time was right. Namely, when I sat alone in the privacy of my room on the top floor of the cathedral, or elsewhere in the outskirts, in a different region, while there was no mission to accomplish.

I bow my head, darken my expression - allow the concept to sink deep within. I wonder…

“Resentment? Curious. I do not know, truthfully. What I “resent”, more than likely, is the notion of what they have done - my ancestors, performing those hideous experiments on those less fortunate than them in the name of hopelessness. This is completely unjust. However…”

I pause, allow the thought to sink a bit deeper, claw at the recesses of my mind just a bit more. Something is unearthing to the surface, with sharp, dirty nails and hair long since overgrown.

“…I wonder what my parents thought of what happened in their pasts. No, I know what. I cannot kid myself any longer - they too practiced blood experimentation in the dead of night. Their lights were on, performing heinous rituals despite their supposed worship of Arceus. It is truly…“

“A wretched thought. It agonizes me, truthfully, to see it as it was. When I was a child, I had no concept of it - I could not picture my parents as being victims of history. And yet, they were - Mother was the one who encouraged Father, as he was the meeker of the two. And I believe even in retirement, he sees no problem in what he was doing. So perhaps, in a way… I do resent them somewhat.”

“But I cannot fully do so - they were simply too ignorant to know any better. They did not wish to break free from the shackles of history - the work I do now is to correct their mistakes for them. For that, I am grateful - without their foolishness, I would not be where I am now.

[vaterurteil-blog]

tokixkukan:

The more they looked at it, the more it looked like a cathedral, a very familiar one at that. Perhaps they had been here before in the past. Dialga’s train of thought was cut off once they noticed a figure walking towards them, bringing them back into reality. How long had they been lost in their own thoughts?

“Good evening.” They greeted, offering a small bow towards the offer. Manors was a necessity when asking for assistance after all.

Once they had finished their bow, Dialga took a second to take a proper look at the person he was talking to, even if they did not pose a threat. (after all if they were they would have attacked by now.)

“Forgive my staring, it has been quite a while since I saw a building of this caliber. I assume this building belongs to you?”

A kind man, it seems. It is curious as to what Lenore was referring to - that is perhaps what one would say if they did not sense that... terribly powerful aura surrounding him, that suggestion of otherworldly omnipotence that could likely get any naysayer into deep trouble.

An anomalous human. Of what kind, however... it is to be determined. But I cannot find out just yet; that would surely be suicide. And I am a crafty man - not one to fall for the trap before it has been set.

To his question, only the obvious can be stated.

"Indeed, it can be classified as such. While the building itself is not mine, it is where I operate. My parish lives there, and I am their Vicar." I clarify, bowing my head in a show of mutual respect. I am not about to disregard someone who has been terribly polite with me. How rude it would be to do such a thing. 

"Stare all you like; the building shall not go anywhere. Perhaps you may be interested in seeing the interior? However, it is only a suggestion."

[vaterurteil-blog]

liechishoppe:

“No worries, friend!” Jak assured, a wide grin spreading across her face. “No worries at all! It’s all good! Ah, but… if you’ll juuuuust give me a sec here…”

Jak disappeared from view, and more scuffling could be heard. It would be another few beats before the Swoobat jumps onto her feet and fully into view, holding a basket of what looked to be colorful red mush. The woman had the same mush covering her clothes in wide splotches, with a smear on her cheek.

Jak bounced around the counter to face the customer properly, giving a salute once she was in front of him, basket snug against her hip. “It’s nice to meet you, Father!” (yes father, that’s what they were called, goodness hoomans have so many names for things) “I’m Jak! Well, Jackfruit, but you can call me Jak!” 

In a blink, she dashed off to the back area, and in another blink, she was back in the reception area sans basket, wiping at her clothes with a paper towel. “Apologies for the uh… weird position you found me in! There was an accident, and berries just went flying, and I lost a good chunk of Leppa Berries that I needed to clean up…” There was a small sniffle, and she dabbed at her eyes with the edge of the towel. “They were so young… Off to the berry garden in the sky now! So sad.”

Soon enough, she was mostly clean of berry pulp. Now she gave the Father her full attention, hands clasped together. “Just a visit??” Jak repeated his words. “I gotcha! But I can’t let you leave without at least a sample or two! Qui talks how you should get potential customers interested your wares, but honestly, it’s the perfect weather for cold juice and it would be a crime not to share it!”

The Swoobat flitted to stand next to the machines, patting one of the metal sides. “You’re right! These babies make juice, smoothies, slushies… all sorts of stuff! We cycle out flavors every week or so to keep things fresh! This week, I’m trying a few experimental blends… the pink liquid is Pecha Lemonade, the blue liquid is Oran-Cheri Punch, and the green liquid is Aguav Surprise! Well, the surprise being the bitterness.”

Jak grabbed one of the plastic cups from the side and held it out to the Father. “Try one, try one! Try them all, if you’d like!”

This one's rather... energetic and overly excited insistence that I try the various juices made within the shop's walls were, frankly... nostalgic. Strange. One would think that such a thing would not be possible, and yet it was. While there was certainly something off about her, and her presented personality was not quite the same as those back at the congregation, a couple faces came to mind.

Mariel and Muriel. Ai. Aelis. Those four - completely reminiscent of this woman, despite their vast difference in ages. A woman in appearance, but a child in actions. Such seemed to be the case, although I cannot help, but offer her a small smile as I observe her. She is covered in quite the mess - likely a variety of juices from different kinds of berries that she worked with. 

She did not seem to be kidding about the mess that was made. Still, she made quick work of it. A rather efficient store owner, it seemed - clearly, she had a mind for business, given that peppy personality. Though not infectious for me, I imagine other members of my congregation would feel the same as she did; likely following her, begging her for tastes of this, the shop's famous berry juice.

"Ah, that is quite alright. I... I imagine those berries are in a, em... better place now - em, Jak? Yes." I reply, doing my best to maintain my smile despite the... odd nature of the statement. How could one truly respond to that? Not without a bit of hesitation in my voice; usually, I was more than prepared to deal with characters like this, and yet...

She had caught me off guard, somehow.

"I suppose you are... not wrong. It is rather hot outside." I reply to this woman's amazingly boisterous claim. How strange! Taking me hostage, verbally - it would be impossible to leave now without heeding to her words. After all, a business was a business, and how detrimental it must be to those who owned one, if a customer walked in without at least sampling their wares. "I could use a drink. Or perhaps, my Pokemon could, more specifically. They are hard workers, after all."

I listen to her prattle on about the different types of flavors, as I stroke my chin thoughtfully with two of my fingers. How... agonizing. So many combinations, though perhaps my Pokemon may like them more than myself. Which flavor to pick? Truly a precarious question - a conundrum for the ages. Far deeper than even the depths of my own mind went.

As she holds the cup out to me with that exuberance of hers, it captures my attention. I am instantly jolted out of my contemplation as I take it from her grip into my two hands, holding it close.

"I wonder... I believe my Aerodactyl likes Pecha Berries, though he does not oft get poisoned..." I think aloud. So many choices, how overwhelming! Where to even begin with such attractive options? "Perhaps the Pecha Lemonade shall do for the current moment. That would be wonderful..."

It seems as though the machines are for customers to use, and so I approach one. The liquid churning inside is audible, and it seems as though this is the one. Though a bit complex, it is usable - and so I operate it as best I can, the liquid pouring into the plastic cup as I look back at the excitable shop owner. Perhaps she was ecstatic at the thought of my sampling her wares.

A wonderful feeling.

"You are clearly dedicated to your work. And that is quite admirable, Miss Jak. And your attitude is also quite admirable - there is much to be learned from someone like you." I state, this time managing a genuine smile, a pleased smile. How can I help it, when the customer service has been more than exemplary?

"Many of the members in my congregation would, well... they would love this."