She denies the wind that whispers her name ever so sweetly. Denies the voice it resembles so closely she would have mistaken it for hers altogether. Twisted be the world of sepia playing tricks on her mind, granting her memories of voice and flora; reminding her of the woman she'd once loved so dearly. Someone she yearns for.

Cruel be the world, as it numbs her senses of that which surrounds her. Kyrenai's focus is solely on the flower in her hand, so much so that when she looks up and regards the image of the woman standing before her, she smiles solemnly, thinking it an illusion. The Borders toying with that which her heartstrings have cried for years on end.

At least Hoenn had been kind enough to muffle those cries over time.

The Border however did not carry such kindness.

"Kyrenai."

The assassin remained kneeling, like a knight before their queen, and for a long while she just stared at the illusion that was Yuki Hanakata; every detail still as she remembered it. The brightness of her icy eyes matching that of the long strands of hair messy around her face. The paleness of skin peeking beneath the torn clothing she wore.

"Hurt. Talking."

Gentless and warmth radiated from crimson eyes as Kyrenai rose, the expression of her face breaking into something reminiscent.

"Then don't, little Blue,"

She bridged the distance with a single, languid stride, reaching out to the illusion with the flower pinned between her fingers. "We need no words." The smile she wore never ceased, lovingly she settled the poppy within her hair, smoothing it over and tucking a stray lock of blue behind her ear. Her hand lingered. How strange that she could feel this illusion as if it was truly physical. Like it was truly-

Crimson eyes widened.

This was no reflection of her mind's desire… this… this was real?

Realization dawned, slow but true, and it showed in her eyes when the turmoil of emotions fought for dominance. Confusion. Denial. Regret. And then, carefully. Hope.

"Yuki…?" While her hands remained steady, her voice shook with just that single word, a name trembling upon her lips. "You- you're really here? But how? It can't be." Both hands now rose back to touch Yuki's, cupping her face so gently like she was handling the frailest of china. Disbelief reigned in her eyes, but when the skin under her fingers didn't give way for clouds and smoke, tears filled it instead, and she flung her arms around her.

"You're back. You're finally back."

yuki hanakata

☉

"I can't help it your staff lacks the backbone to stand up to people not meant to venture beyond certain points." she shrugged, paying the two Pyroar just as much attention as they paid her. "Besides, I paid you back for that. No point crying over spilt milk, or secretary tears." She should've felt bad for the poor woman, and she had significantly piped things down this time around, but if they expected her to show clemency for something this trivial Kyrenai had definitely picked the wrong profession.

Ironic be it however, that despite her emotions being anchored away somewhere, Gabriel's indifference somehow did hurt her. A little. Not that she showed it, but then again she hadn't quite expected a warm family welcome when she got here. Perhaps that was not quite what Clan Black was about these days anyways… or any day, for that matter.

"And what, can't a woman just be here to see her favorite sibling? Oh how you wound me, brother," she replied in the most theatrical sense of mock offense one could possibly muster, hand flitting to her chest.

GABRIEL BLACK

☉

It mattered little what haunted her these days, for it were always the same things. Regrets of days long gone. Regrets and hurts that had never bothered her in all these long, long years. A lie, perhaps. At one time they had threatened to destroy her, but she'd managed to restrain them, reign in those feelings and channel them into becoming her strength.

Yes, she'd thought she'd gotten over them.

And now, she realised.

She had never been.

Not when that spark had reflected in the depths of Palkia's Spacial Rend. Those familiar voices whispering in her ear, coaxing her to believe again. To believe that the dead could stand beside her once more. Ever since, Kyrenai had heard her voice resonating in her head more than once. And every time the fear of it being truth had grasped her heart, squeezing it ever so slightly. And every time it squeezed, she felt the grip get tighter and tighter.

Had she skipped a few nights of sleep?

Had she forgone meals at times, and neglected her duties to escape her own thoughts?

Shamefully she admitted; yes.

The assassin had allowed herself to spiral into something that she had to fix before it was too late. Yet when the reports came in of Penelope Livy having died during one of her expeditions, and having risen from the dead just as quickly, Kyrenai's greatest fear became a reality. It became her hope.

A flicker of doubt still danced in her eyes as she took her first steps through the portal leading into the Borders. Something -her heart, her guts, or something beyond, who was to say- had lured her back to the Borders. To make sure. To see if the voice that had whispered in her ear back at Mt. Pyre had truly been her. Deep down she knew, however, that if she'd be granted a single more chance to be with her, she'd walk the Borders forever.

~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~

How long had she been wandering about the endless sepias of floating mountains and isles?

If one told her time flowed differently within the Border, she would've been inclined to believe them, for the concept of time had faded from her mind a long time ago.

A long time, she thinks. But she's not sure.

The only certainty is the pull dragging her heart and her feet onward; she's long since passed all the notable landmarks she'd come across during her exploration and ventured into territories yet to be mapped.

"I'll find you." she whispers to the winds, and for a moment her hand finds itself back on the blade's hilt.

A memento, of arguably better days.

Her blade.

She'd never been able to part with it. And after the investigations had been concluded, she'd done everything in her power to retrieve it. A token meant to remind her whenever her mind dared waver.

Something unspoken calls the assassin to attention, and when she lifts her gaze from the voids occupying her thoughts she sees the fields before her; hundreds, if not thousands of flowers dance upon the breeze. Among them a single flower; Poppy. Piercing blue. It stands proud among the sea of white, like a cloudless sky among snowbound peaks.

She crosses the floral sea towards it, and for a second time she lingers before it, and kneels. Her fingers tenderly graze its petals, yet she does not question why it was a flower so blue of all things that called for her; its loneliness a silent reminder.

It only reminds the assassin of her.

Of Yuki Hanakata.

"I missed you, Yuki," she whispers to the flower, fingers lowering to its stem, silently admitting. "I still miss you."

And then she pulls.

yuki hanakata

☉

Despite valiant efforts, Crux’ fight is a short one; a single attack is all he can muster before he’s overtaken and plummets to the ground, unable to fight any longer. Kyrenai recalls her Hydreigon with a soft thank you muttered against its pokéball, her eyes soon lingering upon the destruction her fires have wrought.

The fickle smile playing on her lips should’ve acted as a warning as she regarded the flames, pleased by the display.

A pleasure she’s soon snapped out of when a familiar voice calls out among the clashing foes; Godfrey, her protégé and successor, waves at his mentor and former boss, quickly approaching. A most strange, yet happy reunion between the two occurs, and together they press on to advance upon the Necrozma and Eternatus.

Postwick, they realize just as quickly that lives will be lost here. Starting with Godfrey’s; so rapidly torn from her hands that Kyrenai does not even get the chance to aid him. Pinned to the ground, the giant black shard leaves the man’s chest and pleas nothing more than a guttural mess.

Her spiked helmet hits the ground as she falls to her knees. The assassin’s hands desperately search for a way to stop the bleeding, but to no avail; the wail that follows when the last of Godfrey’s life fades away is drowned by the roar of battle.

It only fuels her rage.

In this moment she seeks not the strength of her pokémon; instead she rises, flamberge in hand to avenge her fallen charge. She never gets the chance.




Something tears through Kyrenai’s back, sharp and rough and murderous; then bursts through her chest. Crimson eyes meet the talon protruding from her chest, brutally piercing her. It lifts her slightly before dropping her to her knees, leaving her body in disarray as coldness settles into her limbs. Like her, they will soon prove worthless; but where her legs have already given up her grip still holds true as carmine puddles at her knees.

A strange sense of solace falls over her as she feels her lungs stutter.

She’s not afraid of death, but she’d imagined her end differently. A smile crosses her lips.

One final time.

Bloodstained lips curl before they whisper a sweet nothingness; a blazing Inferno flares forth one final time, fueled by the assassin’s dying breath. Its target? The Necrozma that dared harm her protégé; at least she would meet him again, albeit sooner than expected.

---

Darkness is all she sees. The pain, courtesy of the gaping hole in her chest, has dulled to an annoying itch, and the cold that has settled in her veins lessens by the minute.

...

A murmur stirs her from the soundless void. Warmth slowly invades her iced limbs.

...

The murmur grows louder.

...

The darkness becomes a mess of colorful flashes, brighter with every passing second. Movements in the distance irk her.

...

For a moment Kyrenai thinks she can feel her hands again; something heavy lays within them, but she cannot seem to lift it, let alone move her arm. Somehow she can hear herself hissing ever so silently as she concludes;

The void does not want her, either.




Tldr;
- Inferno-style Flamberge || Kyrenai's armor
- Somehow pleased of the destruction her Inferno makes
- Is reunited with Godfrey
- Godfrey falls to Necrozma
- Kyrenai rages, gets pierced in the chest
- With her dying breath unleashes a last Inferno on Necrozma
- Is revived by kyle lopez 's power
- Revival effects are somehow slowed; is mentally aware of what's happening around her but cannot react

@

☉

Kyrenai never makes it to Hammerlocke.

She’s left Motostoke before the Zacian rises from its statue, wandering the wilderness beyond, her eyes on the skies above wherever she goes. Yet, even though she does not hear the Zacian’s call to arms, the song the Skeleton and the Black Knight have been playing crescendo’s at long last; she knows where to go, and promptly makes her way there.

When she arrives Motostoke's soldiers recognise their former captain by the darkened armor she wears; spiked pauldrons, long black tassets protecting her thighs, sturdy, edged gauntlets protecting her arms, all covered in pitch-black robes torn by combat. Long red hair with strides of silver escape from the helmet covering her face, spikes running around the top of her head like a martyr's crown.

From beneath her visor an eerie glow of restless fire burns, and they know what will come to pass. When the call for attack chimes across the battlefield, she's at the frontlines with her soldiers, aiming for the Intellion's armies. Her flamberge begs for blood as it sings its song of death across the field, steadily advancing together with Crux, her Hydreigon. Their target is simple;

The "army general".

Once they're within range Kyrenai takes a stance, ceasing her advance and slamming the giant blade into the ground. The eerie fire smoldering within her bursts free from its very core, an Inferno of flames surging forth ever so hungrily, ready to devour any opponent within its grasp.

From within the fiery chaos Crux charges his own attack, unleashing a Hyper Beam at the nearby Slowking.


eCIFa8I4



Tldr;
- Inferno-style Flamberge || Kyrenai's armor
- Hydreigon's out and about
- Kyr's Hack 'n Slashing her way through the enemy ranks
- Slams Flamberge into ground; unleashes Inferno on her surroundings
- Hydreigon Hyper Beams Intellion's Slowking

@

☉

Her once crimson hair holds more silver now, both vibrant colors clashing for the sole right to wave Kyrenai's aged colors. The assassin's body has started feeling the pressure of time, and the toll it's gradually started taking. She knows her prime has long since passed, and that the wise thing would've been to retire, to leave the fighting and the leadership of Motostoke's guard to the younger generation. 

Kyrenai declined every single time, for it would mean admitting she'd outgrown the one thing she excelled at. 

The men under her wing, mere boys when they'd first defended the city of rampant 'mons, knew better. 

Only the fire, ever-smoldering in her eyes, betrayed the fury that lingered with an intensity that would put many a fighter to shame. 

It had never left her; the first decade something had been gnawing at her subconsciousness. It had chased her towards the city's edges, the protective walls becoming her solace, where her begrudging thoughts seemed least. She'd learnt that coming nearer the city's center only amplified said feelings, prompting her to isolate herself more and more. Safe for the company of Elaine Highland , who would probably become one of few she would actually call a dear friend, Kyrenai shunned all contact.

It made her notorious, along with her foul mood. Yet in the next 10 years she found herself rekindling the feelings of anger and grudges whenever they dared die down; to all and nothing in particular. Motostoke's guard captain, despite her sworn loyalty to the crown, never forgot the true reason that had put her in that very situation. She never allowed herself to forget, because doing so would mean she had failed yet another charge. 

A sigh escapes Kyrenai as she peers at the skies above, tainted by the beasts heralding their supposed fates. She'd been watching them painstakingly, mulling over the decision that had been pulling at her heart strings— or whatever that remained of them. When she rises, her second-in-command rises with her, and stares at her expectantly. When she regards him and shakes her head, his face seems to fall. 

Her decision has been made.

"I'll inform the kings myself," she says, patting the man on the shoulder as she passes him. "of my choice…"



"--- and Godfrey's immediate appointment as my successor and Motostoke's new Captain of the Guard." The former assassin says, as if she's just passing on a briefing rather than addressing Isaac Merlo and Caleb Harcourt . She'd asked for an audience with the monarchs and just announced her retirement, who she'd deemed a worthy match to succeed her, and her subsequent departure the very moment the audience concluded. It was a mere formality– she could've just left without a word, but she'd be damned if any were to use that against her later on. She'd not fought tooth and nail to just toss her reputation down the drain like that.

She rises again, a Flamberge sword on her back; her calling card, through which she's mastered the move Inferno years ago. Together with Elaine Highland she'd learnt to unleash fires upon whomever dared threaten Motostoke's peace; and under her watchful eye she'd made sure the moats around the city remained ablaze every time an attack was imminent. After her final greetings she salutes the kings again and takes her leave; entertaining a final visit to Elaine Highland before she well and truly turns her back on the city she's protected for over two decades. 


Fate demands her presence elsewhere.



mOiPg9hh



Tldr;
- Inferno-style Flamberge || Inferno-buddies with Elaine Highland
- Is now a tough old(er) lady, aged 56
- Still heavily bothered by Elisabeth Fiorelli 's Wo Chien's grudgy influence
- Resigns as guard captain 
- Will leave Motostoke for Hammerlocke
- Never stops watching the skies for signs

@

☉

When the bells ring, signaling danger at the frontlines, Kyrenai's attention shifts from the hands that have just crumbled underneath her Tyranitar's might to a newer foe. The ground trembles, and while a beastly-sized Garbodor rises from one side, a wave of odd-looking pokémon crashes into the barricades, lead by a futuristic, regal bird.

The assassin's lips quirk into a wicked smile as her hunger grows, as she allows herself to embrace the surge of violence threatening to overwhelm her. The chaos -like it does for others- becomes her playfield as she turns her attention and her destructive partner towards the army of corruption beyond.

She smiles with glee as she mans the barricades, her voice bellowing across the fields. "As if we'd ever fear such sorry lot trying to drive us out," Something wicked in her eyes cometh, but when she regards the peasantry around her, her words ring with truth and confidence. "And neither should you! Stand strong, show them what Motostoke's truly made of."

Because how else would she share the violent chaos stirring in her blood, dragged out by something far less kosher than she could ever anticipate. Her mind desires only one thing at this point;

Level the playing field.

Literally.

"Vox, let loose! GIGA IMPACT!"

And once again she allows her mega Tyranitar to wreak havoc, its magnified power unleashed upon the attacking forces.



7GlpcKm0 +15


tldr;
- Motostoke Squad
- Mans the barricades, spurs on the people
- Is unknowingly getting influenced by Elisabeth Fiorelli
- Mega Tyranitar uses Giga Impact on the invading masses while protecting the barricades

@

☉

To say Motostoke belonged to chaos was putting it lightly; the darkness did not linger like it had in the snowy fields they came from. The serenity of the Tundra -even despite the High King's demise upon it- was in great contrast with the foul smog and unending waves of sludge torrenting from the city's station.

Just like how modern buildings and layout seemed to clash with the outright medieval sight of the people that desperately tried to barricade the toxic waste overrunning their streets. Many are at hand; people fitting the city's modernities but not the masses. Some were busy redirecting the poisonous floods, others helped reinforce the barricades-- a familiar voice shouting directions at the peasantry made her look, recognising the fiery red hair belonging to Aurelie Lefevre . She'd met the woman only briefly during the Winter Masquerade, but she'd left enough of an impression for the assassin to remember her.

Yet now was not the time to entertain reunions. Her attention was drawn to the screams beyond that, and the harrowing hands that spawned from the sludge and earth below. Like manic beasts they grabbed and clawed at everything that dared come near them, crushing those of the civilians unlucky enough to appear in their line of grasp. A group of three were valiantly fighting them off, throwing rather effective ground-type moves at the hands.

But it seemed as the sludge spread, so did the manifestation of the hands increase.

Kyrenai lingers momentarily, her hand already on her belt to call upon her life-long partner. She does not have to think of which role she wishes to play; she's a sword, not a shield. Mayhaps some long-living frustrations could be indulged by going ham on the attacking hands, too. So she rises to the offense, joining the threesome fighting the hands, and inspiring the peasantry.

As she extends her arm towards the foe manus, her Tyranitar bursting forth. A small orb flickers on her chest, a similar light resonating on the Tyranitar as it rushes head-first into its assault. A horn sprouts on its head, its spikes extend until they're rugged and wild, its crest and eyes turn wild and crimson, like its trainer's.

"We will make the world tremble! Vox, EARTHQUAKE!"

Brimming with power Vox lets loose, tearing the earth holding the hands asunder.



femTWrYk


tldr;
- Arrives at Motostoke, recognises Aurelie Lefevre from afar
- Joins Caleb Harcourt , Isaac Merlo & Elisabeth Fiorelli in fighting the hands
- Calls her Tyranitar; mega-evolves it
- Is reinforced by the power of Isaac Merlo 's Ground Field
- Uses Earthquake

@

☉

Try as the beast might, its jaws clenched around the ice lance, its primal might eventually fell short. A small respite for its inevitable demise. Mori lurched, and the lance detonated in its maw, sending the beast crashing into the floor without any more fight in it. Kyrenai, shielded by her Tyrantrum's large frame, was left unharmed, but at the cost of her partner's ability to fight.

Mori was recalled, the assassin fully aware the beast was incapacitated until she could get it checked by professionals, for she doubted rest alone would not be enough to heal the damage done. Down one and another injured, she'd have to start picking her choices more carefully. Her pondering is interrupted by a wary-eyed dragon rider, regality befitting her as much as the dragon steed she sits upon. The way she looks and extends her hand at the cyan-haired man near her makes her smirk.

"Like I'd ever expect them to," there's sacrasm lining her words when she says those words, and then she raises her arm at the two, making her way up the hill. "Same goes to you, both."

The details of Calyrex' death remains a mystery until she too wanders towards the four beams left by the deceased High King, like all else flocking towards them. She takes her time checking the remnants of the destroyed statue, the Calyrex' body; in search of anything that might look interesting enough to releave them of.

But eventually Kyrenai finds the time has come to choose a destination, and her feet drag to a halt before the Hammerlocke portal. She regards it for a moment, inhales, and makes up her mind before allowing the light to swallow her whole.

"To the heart of the beast we go."



JuhJ3|UR


tldr;
- Dino down, Tyrantrum has been recalled
- Godspeed freya morningstar , KING WAYLAND
- Checks whether the destroyed statue/it's surroundings/Calyrex' body has anything worth looting taking along
- Hammerlocke ho!

@

☉

When the Lunatone's glowing eyes fade back from the distance they've been peering into, its tone is one of defeat, a soft whir that does not hide its own disappointment. Kyrenai smiles softly as she takes two pokéballs from the reinforced holders on her belt; one is Jaci's, the other a partner yet unknown. She looks at the Lunatone and extends its portable safe haven to it.

"That's enough Jaci, good work."

Yet as soon as the Lunatone disolves into red light her expression turns pensive. Why did the Future Sight fail? Was something actively blocking Jaci's psychic abilities to look into the future? Or did this realm perhaps have no future left to peer into? Was the decay they saw before them not just the tip of the iceberg, but the entire iceberg outright? Part of her wished to know so she could prepare, while another dared hope they would never find out... how pressing it made things.

Not wishing to linger, she tapped the other pokéball in her hand. From it blue scales, white manes and a silver crown beckoned the calling of her shiny Tyrantrum, Mori, who makes itself known with an eerie silence as it stretching itself to its full length. A shadow now looms over the assassin, but the tyrant beast looks at its trainer for orders rather than to rally ahead or make itself known.

She gets unto its back, and with a few taps guides it towards KING WAYLAND and his Incineroar. It's only when she nears them that she sees the man dodge a brick hurled his way from further ahead, making her wary of what's happening at the statue.

"Impressive dodge," Kyrenai starts, only to have whatever she was planning on saying cut off by battles erupting in a deafening crescendo of explosions and beams. Then, silence, and a unison of voices speaking; the assassin's not sure whether she can see what events are passing beyond, but she remains alert.

When the voices fade, the fighting starts anew, as if each and every one is trying to surpass the other. What overbears all chaos however is the way spears of ice seem to go rampant all around; to all and no-one in particular.

"What the fuck is going on over there?"

It's not a question she expects an answer to, nor does she expect any of the lances being hurled their way either; but when it does, Mori is prepared. The Tyrantrum's been eyeing the fighting suspiciously, and will attempt to Crunch through anything thrown its or its trainer's way.

Literally or figuratively.



dzq8LXxL


tldr;
- Recalls Lunatone
- Wonders whether this realm(?) even has a future left to see
- Calls forth Tyrantrum
- Moves towards KING WAYLAND
- Rhethorical question; X
- Tries to counter the ice lance with a Strong Jaw-powered Crunch

@

☉

For a moment there seems hope that they might actually make it through the snow; Jaci makes a stand as its Psychic stops the Avalanche--- and then, after what seems like an endless moment, the psyonic energy breaks and gives way. The wave of ice and snow overtakes both within moments, but the assassin clings unto her Lunatone with almost herculian strength, making sure they don't get separated in the aftermath.

Captured by the make-shift snowy prison, Kyrenai does not realise they've all been moved elsewhere until she surfaces anew, the sudden brightness of its snowy landscape a vast contrast against the Ancient Tomb they were at moments prior... except, even this 'brightness' seems dulled, decay apparent in the nearby flora. She frowns, wiggling herself free from the snow, and feels her Lunatone doing the same.

In the moments she takes to recollect herself she starts noticing more people around her; how many are making their way towards the curious building, and the apparant fighting beyond its gates? Deciding not to mingle, she remains put and checks her Lunatone for any injuries they should be worried about, but all by all she finds nothing too serious to switch it out. Yet. They'd dealt with worse, but she'd be careful for the time being.

"Good job holding up against that Avalanche, Jaci," she praises the Lunatone, patting its side. Whatever she wishes to say next is deafened by Rayquaza's earth-shattering roar, and before long the distant silhouette of a Shadow Lugia renders the sky. Had she not been certain before, she now knew what monsters walked alongside the people present... and for once she hoped she did not have to face them head-on.

But what would the future hold, then?

"Jaci, Future Sight if you'd please."

As her Lunatone gets to scrying the future for any plausible hints, its master focuses on their surroundings once more. Closest to them, yet still a decent bit away from them, another lonely pair has surfaced from the snow; the dot of cyan hair seems less lucky with cold-resistent clothing and seems to be huddling close to his pokémon. For a moment she entertains the thought to see if she can find an ally in them, but she hesitates.

Mayhaps better to wait until Jaci has finished scrying, just in case they end up being less friendly than anticipated.



8Ty8a3Wh


tldr;
- Resurfaces from her snowy prison; what is this place?
- Thanks her armored suit for deflecting hypothermia
- Is cautious, keeps her distance from any groups
- Hears Rayquaza's roar, sees the Shadow Lugia in the sky
- Lunatone uses Future Sight
- Contemplates joining KING WAYLAND , but watches for now

@

☉