LEAGUE & LEARN

MISSION

“INDEED.”

greetings are brief. handshakes firm. fernando does not dwaddle when his schedule is already inflated by sporadic episodes. a fixation on wasting time on Elisabeth Fiorelli, even when innocuous in nature, starts to add up. and that time loss finds no compensation by his efforts.

what he cannot do or accomplish will be left for someone else. and should there be no one, then it will fall in the cracks. it is no longer his primary concern.

“after you then, wledig,” he says, only a pace behind.

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Gwyar Wledig

PRISMATIC PENITENTIARY

UGLY WARD

REMOVING THE MASK SETS CERTAIN BOUNDARIES IN STONE. the sharp distinction in his glare contrasts the empty lull she’s (Elisabeth Fiorelli) seen in him for so long. he is no longer lost. painfully aware of where his allegiances lie and how much his safety depends on it.

that’s where he draws the line.

no conflict. no combat. just an eye that does not trust or offer clemency when forced into uncertainty. words spoken through expression are left silent as they march one by one, to peer into the WELLSPRING MASK.

silence is his greatest weapon now. he wields it like before. calculating. duplicitous in a way that has been absent from his features and effort since the new year began.

his turn comes and he complies with a soft, “tch.”

what he views, makes him an honest man. fernando’s greatest desire? what he wants most in the future? a simple, peaceful life. one where his role is unneeded from hoenn. where he can step down because there are more capable hands. his destiny is his own, fueled by his passion, carried on by his whim.

kyle lopez, their TOP CHAMPION, commandeers the battlefield, issuing order down the TOXIC CHAIN of command.

freya morningstar and PENELOPE LIVY, are bound by to their desk. busy. always. but not under the duress of a region under siege. arguments over menial decisions, such as whether their priority should be repairing CYCLING ROAD over building accessibility installations to the GREAT CHASM is what causes them to bud heads.

the laboratory of Eva Morales and illeana reyes now researches out of curiosity and wonder rather than necessity. a place of great discovery, second only to SILPH CO.

a fantasy that spurs an itch he cannot scratch.

an urge that no amount of boiling water can numb. his skin flushes red and his hair falls flat against his face. this time, he does not stare at empty tiles. he is in the zone. unashamed and unabashed by his nudity or of those around him. a lecherous eye works double time, doing a soft head count and familiarizing him with those he knows.

“keep your head up,” are sure words of reassurance.

their positions have swapped. this time, freya will find his spirit reinvigorated. what was once a flaccid answer meant to divert attention away from his shame, is now commanded by a girth of experience. the only thing harder than his tenacity is the malice brewing behind narrowed eyebrows.

“we will attain our future.”

fernando is too self centered to make the connection between their personal desires and what they saw. not even a crumb of critical thought goes into freya’s daydream. but why should it? the only king here is the one beside her.

already influenced by the throbbing TOXIC CHAIN hanging at length.

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PRISMATIC PENITENTIARY
2FQ6rqMM

- fernando expresses disdain toward Elisabeth Fiorelli post reveal but just keep to the LEAGUERS
- remain silent and subservient
- his WELLSPRING MASK desire is what he has always claimed: a peaceful hoenn that doesn't require him to step up
- enters the shower
- tells freya morningstar they will earn their vision

PRISMATIC PENITENTIARY

UGLY WARD

“I WAS IN THE ZONE,” he says, as if this were all to make sense. the outlandish excuse is cemented only by his delivery. he does not falter there. not when he’s done this for the entirety of his life.

“within the zone,” he elaborates further. “a situation this nuanced has too many variables to account for.”

and an impossible win condition.

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PRISMATIC PENITENTIARY

- TLDR
- TLDR
- TLDR
- TLDR

LUMINOUS

SLEEPLESS IN SLATEPORT

“THOSE WHO CAN MUST BEAR THE BURDEN OF THOSE WHO CAN’T.”

which, paints an image of self importance that fernando rarely relishes. but his time in hoenn has proven his words, no matter how little he believes in them. as the region falls into despair, so do its people. muddled by inaction. crippled by the incapable.

now, they have the chance to adapt and new faces are taking up the mantles left barren for so long.

“or those who won’t.”

he closes his eye, for a second, and smells the waft of old leather and cheap candles.

“celebrations are built on the labor and sacrifice of others,” he repeats, “even if that means worse company.”

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Elisabeth Fiorelli

LUMINOUS

SLEEPLESS IN SLATEPORT

“I DON’T—” he says all too plainly. “nor will i. when it passes, it will as everything does. but until that time comes, i will not be the one to sever it.”

a statement that holds true for more than just tradition. fernando silph is not a man who mourn (openly). he is one how bottles and allows it to simmer under the self depreciating perspective of burden. the responsibility of those who can.

very fitting for the eldest son of a kantonese family.

“a guardian’s role exist in tandem and in spite of tradition. celebrations are built on the labor and sacrifice of others.”

he gaze settles on her as his tea stills.

“and i am not alone tonight.”

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Elisabeth Fiorelli

PRISMATIC PENITENTIARY

UGLY WARD

TWO WARDS TO PICK FROM. neither grab his attention and his choice revolves around the prisoner’s dilemma. John Sullivan and @navy’s words try to strike a balance between reason and sympathy, but both are ultimately wrong. for their suspicion relies on the sacrifice of their fellow prisoners. colleague who had, by all means, done nothing wrong.

“whichever ward commits to FORSAKING,” is fernando’s vote. a conditional statement, which may not skewer the choice, or hold any weight, but is the correct solution from his elementary deduction.

the best strategy in this case must be NICE but also RETALIATORY when provoked. and better yet, one that doesn’t put him at direct odd against the very people he’s tethered to.

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Elisabeth Fiorelli

- vote for whichever ward votes FORSAKE

PRISMATIC PENITENTIARY

UGLY WARD

“THE DAY THE MEGALOPOLANS INAVDED HOENN.”

fernando is brief with his summary, narrating a historic event while a new one unfolds. behind his mask, his eye does not shy away from the FEZANDIPITI’s barbaric display. he in unaffected by the grotesque, unmoved by the depravity.

for his obedience has already been bought.

there is no reason to be zealous this early on. there are plenty of guinea pigs in this penitentiary playpen. without his pokemon, he has no agency. it is better to observe and bide his time. why sacrifice when others will do it for him? the blood on the floor serves as a grim reminder.

prudence is what got him this far.

“years of machinations only to be repelled by hoenn’s best.”

his mochi is consumed and with it comes the tether to his cell.

“an invasion of necessity on their part. for they hunger for resources they do not have.”

an uncanny feeling settles as his focus on the MEGALOPOLANS, their TOXIC CHAIN, and their previous words settle in his stomach. like the mochi, it’s gooey presence sticks to his inner walls, unable to be pried off with a simple dismissal.

“and a resistance from us to defend our place as the apex predator of our world.”

whatever hypothesis nags him, he keeps it to himself. these people are not his friends nor allies. they are just that: people. test subjects for further observation, stepping stones for his own solution. even the scar on her thigh escapes his recognition.

no matter how many times his fingers may have traced their edges, without context, he can differentiate it no better than he can with petalburg weeds.

“thank you never-rot,” he repeats, upon leaving his cell.

quick hands pilfer through dirty TERA CRYSTALS, adamant in their cleaning, earnest in his work.

“that would require being the best performing ward,” he slips in as he hands clean product back into the crates. like elisabeth, this work is not beneath him. many may question fernando’s ability to do work below his title but that is where they fall flat in their understanding.

his impossible expectation do not come from a silver spoon. they come from shoulders sagged by infinite burden and never-ending effort. after all, he only demands what he can do.

and here, he asks very little. clean diligently, move quick, and please their temporary masters.

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Elisabeth Fiorelli

ATmou_PT

PRISMATIC PENITENTIARY

UGLY WARD

HE’S BEEN HERE BEFORE. robbed of his senses, thrust into the unknown. it hardly bothers him anymore. for the TOXIC CHAIN strapped to his neck does more than latch onto flesh. it is a torquette against all things unnatural. whatever AVATARSHIP that remains, and the afflictions that come with it, have been severed.

to replace one poison with another.

for the first time in months, he has a newfound sense of clarity. a sharpness that follows his standard procedures with divorced objectivity.

when he awakes, he remains still, eye fluttering, half-lidded once, as he slows his breathing. a short time to analyze his situation, allowing still inaction to cover him where others would announce their consciousness with belligerent panicking.

he is not alone. the constant screams from other cells tells him more than he needs to know. all in all, it reminds him of his visit to DARKRAI’s NIGHTMARE REALM.

when he finds the strength to stand, he unfurls, rising to his full height, broad and erect, in front of the cell’s bars. the light from outside casts his shadow over the cell, intimidating in the lumbering perspective of his cellmate.

but he pays them no mind.

his eye is on the passing MEGALOPOLANs and the center column.

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Elisabeth Fiorelli

EXCURSION SIGN-UP

ADVENTURE IS OUT THERE!

WHICH EXCURSION?: AZ EXCURSION C
PARTICIPATING CHARACTERS: Gwyar Wledig

WHICH EXCURSION?: AZ EXCURSION D
PARTICIPATING CHARACTERS: howard slayte

WHICH EXCURSION?: AZ EXCURSION A
PARTICIPATING CHARACTERS: Gwyar Wledig

WHICH EXCURSION?: AZ EXCURSION A
PARTICIPATING CHARACTERS: howard slayte

LUMINOUS

SLEEPLESS IN SLATEPORT

BECAUSE OF YOU, resonates within his heart. the fact she would ask such a question breaks the glamour of her disguise. small yet constant reminders that no matter how well wrapped the package may be, one can never imitate the soul.

a reminder he’s not sure whether to embrace or relinquish.

“because without it, old traditions will die out.”

and with it, the memories.

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Elisabeth Fiorelli

AZ EXCURSION A

EXCURSION

THE WINDS BUFFET THEM WITH RAZOR SHARP ICE. the ZYGARDE buckles underneath the constant pressure, relenting, as it reels back. yet again, they must yield to the REGICE. but this time, fernando is prepared. he fumbles for a pokeball and when it activates, his SYGNA SUIT shifts into existence.

his trust GLALIE is summoned, spinning into action with a PROTECT. a momentary shield to provide him and ZYGARDE the chance to counter.

with a howl, the ZYGARDE pounds both paws onto the ground. LAND’S WRATH rattles the cavern walls, collapsing it entirely between the two.

a good enough buffer.

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howard slayte

AZ EXCURSION A

EXCURSION

THE GROWING FROST NIPS THE GRASS KNOT AT ITS BUDS. whatever sprawl they manage to crawl out of dies once the ice actually sets in. the space between them clouds and fernando finds the lack of visibility unsettling.

“battle routine set.”

if he cannot see them then they will have to guesstimate.

“execute!”

no explicit order is given but the natural train of thought it to continue to attack. the ZYGARDE, already familiar with the approach of GRASS KNOT, instead, opts for something from above. STONE EDGE shards rattling from the roof, as they try to rain down on howard’s approximate position.

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howard slayte

AZ EXCURSION A

EXCURSION

THE GLARE HOLDS THEM IN PLACE. PARALYSIS is often times reliable but never certain. which is why the pokemon’s spur for GRASS KNOT looks to actually bind them with shackles and non-toxic chains. they surge out from cracks in the ground, erupting in various places, lashing out for the closest thing they can get their roots on.

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howard slayte