and that's your own fault, she wants to snap. the rope that is her patience is long, snaking around hours of preparation and mental endurance for this very battle. she always knew she'd be able to take him on the field. he's an elite four for a reason, but he's so quick to rely on his patron, to work his frustrations out with brute force. 

she used to be the same. 

lyune's flames grow hotter. confusion rattles him, but that does not stop the draconic blaze that sweeps over the field, pluming as her patience snaps in twain. 

every fiber of her being shudders in anger. her sygna suit glows and embers spark around her mouth. 

lyune's wrath overwhelms her - nests ripped apart, dragons fallen, bones of kin swallowed by darkness, spirits wayward, their connection to the draconid fading. 

"you fucking handed my home to the enemy," she roars, "and yet you want like a child after my trust. let me tell you something, silph. you are enough as you are.

"and you are nothing."

MATIAS SILPH

☉

eva grumbles something under her breath and freya prays king doesn't hear it; they skirt by it all the same and eva is the temper to freya's flame, guiding her frustrations with validations and pointing them towards resolution. it's in her will to fight it. 

her teeth grind. 

she can't burn anyone that gets in her way. she can't put a target on her back. not as long as she has king. not as long as he has delta. there are some risks, without love, that she would have taken. before him, before all of this, she would throw caution to the wind and plunge her whole self into the fire if it meant the possibility of making a difference. 

"and that cost us reshiram," she growls out, though conviction leaves her as the visionary looked up at the unown-k. all color bleeds away from her eyes and freya's hand moves to the hilt of her sword, muscles on a hairpin trigger. 

blessed by the gods; she wants to laugh, but king reacts, ready for the fight, and freya thinks it could be a trick! those could be our people!

and then they come. water explodes outward. black-suited assassins move like a murder. freya's venomous gaze fixes on the almost-smug prophet - she set us up - but calcifer snaps in front of her nose, leveling his eye at her in warning. 

she draws her blade and as it shifts to her opposite hand, it splits in twain. the quiver at her hip spits out an arrow at her command and she strings it.

"go," she snaps and wind rakes over them all as calcifer takes off like a bullet, bathing himself in draconic fire to hammer into the nearest assailant.

Naomi Sato KING WAYLAND Eva Morales
xG6vktQn

☉

to say freya has struggled with trust issues would be the understatement of the century. and it's here that those trust issues come in handy - rather than become complacent, assuring herself that greyson can cover her back, she rips free the ball of the one creature she can trust with her life. 

one of fafnir's legs gives out and he falls to his knee with a grunt, claws unlocking from the snarling walking wake's maw so he can tuck into a roll.

her sygna suit flares to life. she snarls in another language when she sees the fae horse fall; lyune surges towards the false entei with claws outstretched and freya lunges at the walking wake wielding her shortsword. 

flames crawl down her gauntlets. the tether that binds her to lyune strengths and her own dragon claw slashes the wake's exposed hide. 

"connors, get your ass in gear," she snaps. the shimmering hexagonal barrier lyune conjures in front of himself and rae shatters with one blow from their new adversary and immediately, the dragons are at each other's throats. 

"they can't fly. get on his back - " she parries, voice clipped - "and get out."

Greyson Connors
QJ7L6XoH

☉

the simulation folds in on itself, pixels bleeding way to white. and then it reconstructs around them. moonlight splits the perverse cavern. anxiety squirms under her skin; since the emergence of the tera crystal caverns, she has not taken kindly to being underground. 

the only place she's felt safe within the confines of rock is in her home, but that's become a distant memory too. 

the ghastly specter emerges from the rock and two prompts float up on either side of it. freya looks to her companion, knowing at the very least that ghosts are her expertise. 

Elise Calcifet

letting elise lead

☉

made him into this horrid, broken thing. this can't be groudon, not entirely. erosion of the mind would drive anyone to madness, but she's seen a cosmic level of unhinged. and each breath of vitriol she spits his way only tips him closer to the ledge. 

"i don't know," she says, but he's not really looking for answers from her. 

all she knows is that her home is here and her people are here and she will not be torn down from men like him. not again. never again. 

lyune's wings unfurl and he takes to the sky, away from the clutches of matias' earthen powers. comets gather in his mouth; galaxies swirl in his spirit; the song of ancients swims through his veins. 

"it's so easy to be hateful, isn't it?"

MATIAS SILPH

☉

"tzarafar," she snaps under her breath as an earth spike dislodges itself from the ground and careens into niv-mizzet's back. the baxcalibur can't turn in time and he's exposed to a deluge of flame. he could go on and grapple with the magmortar with murderous intent, but freya recalls him. 

her sygna suit flares to life. metalwork knits seamlessly over her training garb as lyune's bulk hits the battlefield. spittle flies from his maw as he roars. draconic flames pulse bright purple from his throat. 

"even though he made you too?"

MATIAS SILPH

☉

she says, "i danced for you once, you know. not here. not in this body," as she kneels, tucking her heels under her bottom. her hands fold gently in her lap. 

the draconid had different rituals for their gods. zekrom's had brought sweat to her brow. an enigmatic motion from start to finish, with every muscle strained, wrists left to twirl to mimic the storm inside of him.

she reaches for the leather cord around her neck, tugs it over her head, giving a tug when it catches on her thick mane of hair. the half-moon pendant, usually a bluish gray, looks a startling phthalo in the fog. 

"your chosen helped get this back to me." 

she stares down at it, this pendant that has never meant much to her, and now it feels so heavy. there is so much she still doesn't know; there's so much that feels right, but it isn't true. she only knows the reality dionysus had chained her to.

"i thought i would have tired of wanting by now," she admits, thumbing the sapphire at the crescent's heart, "but i've found you want more when you're no longer selfish.

"what do any of us ever want? what are they asking you for?" she waves a hand around her, though the landscape is thick with fog, and she can see no other silhouettes. "happiness? peace? that everything, in the end, will be okay?"

what about the aftermath? when this is all over?

"i'd be a liar if i said i didn't want the same. but mostly, what i find myself wanting, time and time again?" her laugh is a dry, sorry thing. "for the gods to stop their meddling. some of you, i think, have good intentions, but what you've done to some of them..."

you don't come back from that. whoever Elisabeth Fiorelli was before is gone. wherever FERNANDO SILPH goes when he's stuck in the 'zone,' she can't follow. MATIAS SILPH, fractured.

"i'll go to any lengths to keep my loved ones safe. their happiness is my ideal world," she says and stands, dusting off her pants, fingers clasping together, head tilted in a respectful bow, "but i won't go to my death. not anymore. too many people count on me now."

IONIZED IDEALS
jQKrCh6|

☉

amidst the smoke and steam and flying shrapnel, he cannot see the tightening of her jaw. he rubs salt in old wounds, but her sutures hold fast. the only person strong enough to tear her apart has done so, countlessly. far more hatefully than he ever could. 

and she has long since shed the skin of her own self-loathing.

"i respect him," she says measuredly. that's why he's alive. "your choices are your own, matias. whatever you've done, you can't blame him."

MATIAS SILPH

☉

it's decided, with her answer, that freya will humor her. the first battle will be to test her strength, to see if she's a good fit for any other projects. a tryout of sorts, from the council's own combat strategist, but her follow-up question unsettles freya. 

she shows her teeth. 

"i knew the hunger of that dragon well before anyone else." liquid time drowning her, freezing over and over and over, love found and love lost, and always that insatiable growl, corroding the back of her mind, stripping her of what little humanity remained. 

"no one could walk away from that unscathed." her body is a network of scars, most veiled by her clothing, but some - like the twin silver marks on her neck¹ - are visible by her scoop-necked sweater. her fingers twitch, though she does not reach for them.

"but my decisions, most importantly, led me here. where i can help people like you." she withdraws some folders from her desk and lays them on the table, fanning them out. "which one do you want to test yourself against?"

DESIREE BLOOMS

¹ from the events of father winter 1

☉

protocol dictates all league personnel leave in at least teams of two, but she's always been queen of do as i say, not as i do. most of her forays into the cavern have been short trips, excuses to clear her head, with the occasional skirmish against paradox pokemon.

"and it'd be well-deserved. she can have a national holiday week if she can do that." it reminds her she's yet to touch base with the scientist since she's come into her avatarship. 

too many duties with not enough time. 

"and this isn't even counting area zero," she sighs. they're on relatively flat ground for now so they don't need to mount up to traverse; calcifer still stretches his wings and flies overhead to provide as a lookout. 

"and quite frankly, you might be one of the few to see it as an honor right now." Alexei Ivanov and Hideo Kino would certainly not appreciate being 'hand-picked' by the councilwoman for anything. 

"has illeana reyes reached out to you yet?" she asks, curious. 

Isaac Merlo

☉