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Frontier Town Frontier Town Outskirts
- Thread starter Jackie Cat
- Start date
- Pronoun
- He
- Pronoun
- she/her
- Pronoun
- He
"I certainly hope so," Mhynt said, "but he's going to be more cautious this time. Alexander is not reckless. He's much more calculated than his nature would suggest. It would take a provocation and true vulnerability on our part to draw him out..." She rolled her eyes. "And with that idiot Saint getting in our way, we have our hands full as it is. Have you heard of that?"
- Pronoun
- she/her
"I do not doubt that. He was encountered before in Blaguarro and played the fool to make himself appear nonthreatening. I would be... immensely concerned, moreso than I would be now, if it was not an act."
Bellatrix nodded at Mhynt's question. "Over the communications. Between it and the knowledge that some Saints are no longer with us, it does not seem that this world has a very good track record with its gods, if they are gods to begin with and not just regular pokémon with too much power and an ego." Not too much unlike Alexander, now that she thought about it.
Bellatrix nodded at Mhynt's question. "Over the communications. Between it and the knowledge that some Saints are no longer with us, it does not seem that this world has a very good track record with its gods, if they are gods to begin with and not just regular pokémon with too much power and an ego." Not too much unlike Alexander, now that she thought about it.
- Pronoun
- He
"I see them as little more than mortals who acquired a little too much power," Mhynt said. "We've heard little word of any true, celestial gods who actually dictate the world's fabric. It seems to me they operate within its fabric. Not gods... unless you could a Pokemon's grasp over similar energies to also be godly. but if that's the case... what difference does it make from them to us? Magnitude, and little more." Mhynt sighed. "I'm... not in a proper shape to take on the one they know. But I suspect there are others. I plan to do some ego cutting if I must..."
Her tone suggested she was willing to go further, if these so-called 'Saints' are any worse.
Her tone suggested she was willing to go further, if these so-called 'Saints' are any worse.
- Pronoun
- she/her
"People getting power they do not deserve is a common theme here, it seems," Bellatrix added ruefully, very clearly on the same page. "I am all for cutting them down to size if they prove unworthy of those abilities." The Cipher admins came to mind. She did not know what their ultimate fates would end up being but she was more than happy to leave them rotting in the HQ for the rest of their lives to live their consequences of their own decisions.
"If that 'Saint' or any of his peers proves unworthy, then someone else more capable can take on the mantle once he is dealt with."
"If that 'Saint' or any of his peers proves unworthy, then someone else more capable can take on the mantle once he is dealt with."
- Pronoun
- He
"I don't know how the inheritance of that power goes," said Mhynt with a pensive frown. "If some gods are outright dead, that means that if they do not find a successor, then so ends that Saintly line." At least, that was her deduction on it. "...I suppose if you combined those factors together -- mortal minds in ageless bodies, the risk of losing a lineage if you don't get a successor, and of course the apparent lack of bringing about new Saints -- it's no wonder this world is losing its gods."
She huffed out through her nose.
"...But if these Saints are among what's left, perhaps culling would be in the mortals' interest. We shall see. It's possible they are corrupted by Shadows or Radiance, and--" Mhynt's expression darkened. "...And if they aren't, they could be later. We've already seen that happen before..."
She huffed out through her nose.
"...But if these Saints are among what's left, perhaps culling would be in the mortals' interest. We shall see. It's possible they are corrupted by Shadows or Radiance, and--" Mhynt's expression darkened. "...And if they aren't, they could be later. We've already seen that happen before..."
- Pronoun
- she/her
"If they cannot be reasoned with in any way shape or form, then yes, I doubt much would be lost if they were to disappear." It didn't sound like that this "Zapdos" provided anything major in terms of Sainthood either way. "Did those who encountered this Saint notice any hint of either Radiance or Shadow?" Bellatrix asked.
- Pronoun
- He
- Pronoun
- she/her
A nod of agreement. "Either way," Bellatrix then said. "Those are judgements best reserved for when we encounter one again. For now, it is getting late and you won't be able to fight efficiently whilst exhausted." Bellatrix gestured towards the town with her head and turned to leave. Not that she could force it. Perhaps another day, at a better time, she would have the chance to spar with the grovyle but for now, she was satisfied with the discussion they had.
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Ch05 - All I Need (Kimiko solo)
Shadow Serenity
Lurking
- Pronoun
- He/Him
When the daytime sun retreated beyond the horizon, the Soja became shockingly cold, even without a breeze. No matter how many times Kimiko had wandered out here in the middle of the night, she never quite expected the bite.
Still, this remained the best spot she'd found for those times she felt the need to be alone, especially in the middle of the night. There was something about this secluded spot that felt familiar and comfortable by now. It was far enough outside town to not disturb anyone with her music, but close enough to feel safe.
The lamp she'd taken from her room (surely Greasewood wouldn't mind) gave off only faint light. She'd also brought his requinto, as usual. Tonight, however, the instrument remained in its case beside her, waiting patiently to be played. Instead, Kimiko lay curled around the lantern as she stared into the flickering flame inside, absorbing what little warmth it offered.
She'd heard the message through Betel's network. Encounters with legendaries - saints, as they were called here. Saints that wanted to fight them, for one reason or another. They, who'd done nothing but try to aid this world since arriving, in place of those who should be doing the same. These were the some of the supposed guardians of this world, who would rather waste their time with petty, selfish brawls while their world suffered rather than do anything to help it themselves. No, they thought a better use of their time and power was to pick a fight with the ones who were actually working to make a difference.
This world's Saints had called them to fight.
Kimiko didn't answer.
The rest of the Wayfarers had, of course. They'd been chosen for this, all of them, and had thrown themselves at their accepted duty against anything that had gotten in their way thus far. If this was going to be yet another obstacle in their way, it must be dealt with.
But while the rest of the team had split up and gone off in search of the trio, Kimiko remained behind, intentionally out of sight so no one would notice until it was too late. An easy enough feat when they were separating. By now, even possibly at this very moment, they were all probably either engaged in battle or about to be, while she lay here in the dirt, curled up around her lantern. But she couldn't join them. She wasn't ready. How could she be, when her thoughts were so scrambled? When her resolve had been shaken?
It had been one thing after another, and so many mysteries to unravel. The mayor. The Coven. Shadows. Cipher. Now the saints. Mhynt had suggested they would be so uncooperative that they'd need to murder them; she wanted no part of that. That's not why she was here. Even as she struggled with her own inadequacies, she'd done her very best to play the part she willingly chose to accept, to fight in defense of this world in it's time of need. But she was tired of the world fighting back.
She scoffed, sending dirt and sand swirling around the base of the lantern. That wasn't the real problem. That was what she'd agreed to take on, which just so happened to double as a convenient, surface level excuse to layer over her real issues. Out here, alone in the cold darkness, far from prying eyes and concerned questions, there was no point lying to herself about it.
No, the real problem, as always, was her emotions. She was homesick.
She'd been feeling it for a while, but meeting Sinopa drove the point home in a way she hadn't expected, and she'd yet to figure out how to deal with it. She missed Olivia. She missed the rest of her team, and Alex, and Michelle, and... She'd been so desperate to get away from the ghost problem, and it had taken this long to finally start sinking in just how much else she'd given up in exchange. Somehow, without realizing it, she'd gotten used to having someone to lean on. She'd forgotten how it felt to not have anyone to confide in, hadn't realized how much she'd started to depend on them to help her carry her emotional baggage. She'd traded one world's set of problems for another, and sacrificed her support network to do so.
Foolish. A stupid, hasty decision based on heated emotion.
How was anyone else coping with this? This wasn't the first time the thought crossed her mind; Everyone had given up something to accept their summons. Surely she couldn't be the only one missing the life they left behind, even knowing it was temporary. They'd been here a while now, certainly the longest time Kimiko had ever been away from her loved ones. And yet, everyone else had taken to their new calling with gusto, accepted their mission as though they had personal stakes on the line.
At least, on the outside. Maybe she could subtly ask around, try to gently pry feelings out of her allies.
A few names came to mind. The first one that really stood out to her was, ironically enough, not a fellow off-worlder, but Whimsicott Greasewood. He'd been nothing but friendly, helpful, and trustworthy towards her, and they'd already spent more than one evening sharing an after-hours chat while tidying up the saloon. The old barkeep's ear cliché was alive and well in him. He may not be able to relate, but surely he'd have advice worth listening to; he'd always had.
Along the same lines, the name that came attached to Grasewood and the saloon was Odette. They'd gotten along well after her apology, as she had originally anticipated. And there was that odd chance they were parallel universe clones or something, so if there was only one person who might understand her emotional struggle, there was no better guess.
The other name to catch her interest was Silver. Like Odette and herself, he had been a trainer where he came from, and both of them had had nothing but praise for their respective 'mon. Like her, they'd each considered their teams as family. If anyone would be missing their homes, it would be them - ones who she knew, like her, had left someone behind.
The thought of them brought the hint of a smile to her lips. Suddenly, she could feel Alex's voice, crystal clear in her mind, as though he sat right beside her.
You just answered your own problem.
Kimiko raised her head and looked around, blinking in the dark, just to be sure it was in her head and that no one had crept up on her. But the desert was quiet, save for the faint crackle of the lantern flame. She laid her head back down and stared again into the light.
She was in no mood for any cryptic code bullshit. In her mind's eye, she could see Alex roll his eyes, laughing at her for not picking up on what he'd told her, as though it were so stupidly obvious that even he'd understood. And almost immediately after, a memory surfaced, as though he'd pulled it out of the blue and pushed it at her; a memory from her conversation with Odette, after they'd had that shouting match...
And not a moment after that, another memory, this one with Silver, from their chat right here in this very spot.
To her surprise, one more memory surfaced... one of herself, speaking in response to Silver.
Her mental image of Alex grinned at her, arms crossed, looking smug. In his voice, she heard the words, You do have a support network here. It's your own fault for not using it.
For a moment, she considered thanking him, then realized she'd essentially be thanking herself. Instead, with a grin, Kimiko thought back, You're such an ass.
A memory of his laugh and his last words echoed through her mind; I miss you, too.
That laugh continued to echo and fade as she opened her eyes again. Still dark, and the lantern flame was low. How long ago had she dozed off? She sat herself up, blinking to adjust her vision, and the position of the moon told her she still had several hours until dawn. As she got her bearings, spotted the requinto, still in its case nearby. With a soft smile, she reached for it, and started to play.
There was nothing she could do about the saints now. Even if she knew how to get there, to any of them, the battles would long be finished by the time she arrived, whether in victory or defeat. She dropped the ball on this one, and she was probably going to have to answer for it from someone. Probably Greasewood first, when he inevitably caught her sneaking back to her room in the middle of the night. That was going to suck - no matter who questioned her - but she'd suck it up and own up to it. Because now, she could confidently say she felt ready to get her head back in the game.
Even with the light so low, she had enough candle left for one song. So she sang, and she didn't stop, even when the white glow of her body outshined the lantern, until she had finished, now with proof of her renewed conviction.
Still, this remained the best spot she'd found for those times she felt the need to be alone, especially in the middle of the night. There was something about this secluded spot that felt familiar and comfortable by now. It was far enough outside town to not disturb anyone with her music, but close enough to feel safe.
The lamp she'd taken from her room (surely Greasewood wouldn't mind) gave off only faint light. She'd also brought his requinto, as usual. Tonight, however, the instrument remained in its case beside her, waiting patiently to be played. Instead, Kimiko lay curled around the lantern as she stared into the flickering flame inside, absorbing what little warmth it offered.
She'd heard the message through Betel's network. Encounters with legendaries - saints, as they were called here. Saints that wanted to fight them, for one reason or another. They, who'd done nothing but try to aid this world since arriving, in place of those who should be doing the same. These were the some of the supposed guardians of this world, who would rather waste their time with petty, selfish brawls while their world suffered rather than do anything to help it themselves. No, they thought a better use of their time and power was to pick a fight with the ones who were actually working to make a difference.
This world's Saints had called them to fight.
Kimiko didn't answer.
The rest of the Wayfarers had, of course. They'd been chosen for this, all of them, and had thrown themselves at their accepted duty against anything that had gotten in their way thus far. If this was going to be yet another obstacle in their way, it must be dealt with.
But while the rest of the team had split up and gone off in search of the trio, Kimiko remained behind, intentionally out of sight so no one would notice until it was too late. An easy enough feat when they were separating. By now, even possibly at this very moment, they were all probably either engaged in battle or about to be, while she lay here in the dirt, curled up around her lantern. But she couldn't join them. She wasn't ready. How could she be, when her thoughts were so scrambled? When her resolve had been shaken?
It had been one thing after another, and so many mysteries to unravel. The mayor. The Coven. Shadows. Cipher. Now the saints. Mhynt had suggested they would be so uncooperative that they'd need to murder them; she wanted no part of that. That's not why she was here. Even as she struggled with her own inadequacies, she'd done her very best to play the part she willingly chose to accept, to fight in defense of this world in it's time of need. But she was tired of the world fighting back.
She scoffed, sending dirt and sand swirling around the base of the lantern. That wasn't the real problem. That was what she'd agreed to take on, which just so happened to double as a convenient, surface level excuse to layer over her real issues. Out here, alone in the cold darkness, far from prying eyes and concerned questions, there was no point lying to herself about it.
No, the real problem, as always, was her emotions. She was homesick.
She'd been feeling it for a while, but meeting Sinopa drove the point home in a way she hadn't expected, and she'd yet to figure out how to deal with it. She missed Olivia. She missed the rest of her team, and Alex, and Michelle, and... She'd been so desperate to get away from the ghost problem, and it had taken this long to finally start sinking in just how much else she'd given up in exchange. Somehow, without realizing it, she'd gotten used to having someone to lean on. She'd forgotten how it felt to not have anyone to confide in, hadn't realized how much she'd started to depend on them to help her carry her emotional baggage. She'd traded one world's set of problems for another, and sacrificed her support network to do so.
Foolish. A stupid, hasty decision based on heated emotion.
How was anyone else coping with this? This wasn't the first time the thought crossed her mind; Everyone had given up something to accept their summons. Surely she couldn't be the only one missing the life they left behind, even knowing it was temporary. They'd been here a while now, certainly the longest time Kimiko had ever been away from her loved ones. And yet, everyone else had taken to their new calling with gusto, accepted their mission as though they had personal stakes on the line.
At least, on the outside. Maybe she could subtly ask around, try to gently pry feelings out of her allies.
A few names came to mind. The first one that really stood out to her was, ironically enough, not a fellow off-worlder, but Whimsicott Greasewood. He'd been nothing but friendly, helpful, and trustworthy towards her, and they'd already spent more than one evening sharing an after-hours chat while tidying up the saloon. The old barkeep's ear cliché was alive and well in him. He may not be able to relate, but surely he'd have advice worth listening to; he'd always had.
Along the same lines, the name that came attached to Grasewood and the saloon was Odette. They'd gotten along well after her apology, as she had originally anticipated. And there was that odd chance they were parallel universe clones or something, so if there was only one person who might understand her emotional struggle, there was no better guess.
The other name to catch her interest was Silver. Like Odette and herself, he had been a trainer where he came from, and both of them had had nothing but praise for their respective 'mon. Like her, they'd each considered their teams as family. If anyone would be missing their homes, it would be them - ones who she knew, like her, had left someone behind.
The thought of them brought the hint of a smile to her lips. Suddenly, she could feel Alex's voice, crystal clear in her mind, as though he sat right beside her.
You just answered your own problem.
Kimiko raised her head and looked around, blinking in the dark, just to be sure it was in her head and that no one had crept up on her. But the desert was quiet, save for the faint crackle of the lantern flame. She laid her head back down and stared again into the light.
She was in no mood for any cryptic code bullshit. In her mind's eye, she could see Alex roll his eyes, laughing at her for not picking up on what he'd told her, as though it were so stupidly obvious that even he'd understood. And almost immediately after, a memory surfaced, as though he'd pulled it out of the blue and pushed it at her; a memory from her conversation with Odette, after they'd had that shouting match...
And not a moment after that, another memory, this one with Silver, from their chat right here in this very spot.
To her surprise, one more memory surfaced... one of herself, speaking in response to Silver.
Her mental image of Alex grinned at her, arms crossed, looking smug. In his voice, she heard the words, You do have a support network here. It's your own fault for not using it.
For a moment, she considered thanking him, then realized she'd essentially be thanking herself. Instead, with a grin, Kimiko thought back, You're such an ass.
A memory of his laugh and his last words echoed through her mind; I miss you, too.
That laugh continued to echo and fade as she opened her eyes again. Still dark, and the lantern flame was low. How long ago had she dozed off? She sat herself up, blinking to adjust her vision, and the position of the moon told her she still had several hours until dawn. As she got her bearings, spotted the requinto, still in its case nearby. With a soft smile, she reached for it, and started to play.
There was nothing she could do about the saints now. Even if she knew how to get there, to any of them, the battles would long be finished by the time she arrived, whether in victory or defeat. She dropped the ball on this one, and she was probably going to have to answer for it from someone. Probably Greasewood first, when he inevitably caught her sneaking back to her room in the middle of the night. That was going to suck - no matter who questioned her - but she'd suck it up and own up to it. Because now, she could confidently say she felt ready to get her head back in the game.
Even with the light so low, she had enough candle left for one song. So she sang, and she didn't stop, even when the white glow of her body outshined the lantern, until she had finished, now with proof of her renewed conviction.
<><><>