AFTERMATH

SOCIAL

“A TALL ORDER SEEING HOW RAGGED HE’S LEFT YOU,” fernando quips with little scorn. the words taunt but only because navy has set himself up as both punchline and punching bag. fernando’s face finds no humor in his words.

“but one we will be counting on should the future require it.”

their conservation is interrupted by several league members entering the room. evidently, the medical personnel he had requested earlier based on their white colored uniforms.

“until then, i suggest you better yourself until the situation arises–you won’t be killing anyone if a single pokemon reduces you to this.”

[attr="class","spiralpee"]
Michael Navidson

LUMINOUS

SLEEPLESS IN SLATEPORT

AN IMPERFECT CRACK BLISTERS across the surface of her image. like watching a hairline fracture slowly ease its way through a vase taken out a kiln too early. close, but not nearly perfect enough.

“indeed.”

their conversation isolates them from slow paced stragglers. the streets have emptied out well beyond the eye can see. only the small howl of winding winds and the smell of burnt incense still linger.

“we eat noodles to ensure a long life, delay washing out our hair which will wash away our good luck, and avoid dallying where crowds have dispersed lest we end up all alone.”

he doesn’t bat an eye.

“you should know that odd numbers bring superstition on days like today.”

[attr="class","spiralpee"]
Elisabeth Fiorelli

IT'S FINE

POST RESURFACED TREASURES

“VERY WELL THEN.”

the mattress squeaks under shifting weight. he remains rigid throughout, not even so much as sparing her a glance. he doesn’t need to at this point. like usual, he knows what and where he need to pay his attention to.

“as you were, morales.”

his nose wrinkles in his own reflection.

“i’ll be waiting.”

[attr="class","spiralpee"]
Eva Morales

GROUND STUDY

TERA TUNNELING

“THUS FAR,” he slips in as a tactful reminder. minor semantics but important, nevertheless.

“…”

fernando says nothing at the first instance of the buzzing. but his eyes grow big and the lookback he gives paxton should convey what they’re both thinking.

a hand strays to his waist.

[attr="class","spiralpee"]
paxton concordas

RAT TRAP

SOCIAL

“FAITH REQUIRES TRUST,” he matches with a conflicting grimace. “trust that individuals will make reasonable choices. or, at the very least, ones within our range to predict.”

the mention of merlo is ignored in lieu of his true target. he could care less about some pleb, which makes isaac all the more tolerable. for misguided ideals are just that, misguided. but those who have no excuse?

“and entitlement has always been sensibility’s greatest detractor.”

like merlo, fernando has little to add about concordas. his opinion weighs closer to neutral than negative, which, comparatively, puts him on a pedestal compared to the others.

instead, it is reyes that strikes his attention.

“whispers, hm?”

life comes to his eyes as he settles back into his territory. they may push their agendas and initiatives, but discovery lies in his court. which, currently, has its own priorities.

“it is an endeavor we can shift focus to, as priorities adjust, but such efforts must go through both head scientist.”

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PENELOPE LIVY freya morningstar dahlia goode

LUMINOUS

SLEEPLESS IN SLATEPORT

SHE LOOKS AT HIM with hollow eyes only he knows. one that enhance the bewitching stare that sees right through him. laced with the enigmatic ambiguity that makes her unreadable.

but, not like his.

where he is a blank slate. cold to the touch, too smooth to find any distinct corners or ridges, hers is pronounced. chiseled in a manner that leaves it to the viewer’s interpretation. an aloof curiosity that suggests an invitation to further conversation yet seems disconnected from it all.

the same essence of a ghost that still invests in the living. it’s what makes her ethereal. unreal, even.

at least, until he hears her speak. hears the choice words that come out of her mouth. the mouth that shares her voice–but the diction does not match what he knows her for. something that wraps his perception of her between the dissonance of recreating an image perfectly but being unable to capture its artistic soul.

it lets him sulk with hands hung low, draped in an expensive peacoat one size too large.

“lunar new years is a celebration of wealth and prosperity.”

he no longer speaks in pink or lavender. like the rest of them, he is a colorless white. blending in with the rest of the winter’s topical snow.

“we gather to amass this energy but must be careful not to squander it.”

he stares at her with an emptiness she has never know from him. for elisabeth has only seen his presentations. business and formal. pronounced to be ‘customer facing’.

“so i am here to clear the streets. for it manifest with the people. as it should be, in our homes and among each other as the moon fills once more.”

[attr="class","spiralpee"]
Elisabeth Fiorelli

GYM JAM

GYM LEADER MEGATHREAD

“A GYM LEADER’S JOB IS—” comes the last opinion to chime in on the matter, “—to assess, gauge, and provide training to aspiring trainers in pursuit of the CHAMPION RANK. no more and no less.”

a textbook answer that never seems to reflect reality. for the world is far too nuanced to be swept in black and white simplicities.

“in the same manner that our obligation ends at reporting a fire as we watch our community burn to the ground. what you will find is that this occupation appeals to individuals who have a sense of duty. those who want to do more.”

his nose wrinkles.

“individuals such as yourselves.”

which is a fitting footnote for the conversation that follows. confessions are made. trust is broken. for secrets always come at a cost. the pain of being withheld from is weighed against the backdrop of previous events.

what-ifs.

a sentiment that is fresh as individuals reel from their excursion last christmas.

“…”

UXIE and TORNADUS do not anger him as they would once before. he is indifferent in the face of freya’s wrath. seeing the onus placed on another is welcoming, but not out of spite or petty satisfaction that the burden has transferred to another.

he is far too burnt to have any cinders left.

“likewise, not all of us can be expected to act. it is easy to say we will protect and serve. sacrifice for the greater good. to throw water on a raging fire instead of staring in awe and despair.”

an eye closes solemnly. keeping to himself.

“to trust in our colleague as we navigate turbulent times.”

[attr="class","spiralpee"]

- says GYM LEADERS have the least obligations (out of those present)
- however, it is their moral duty to help the region as a whole
- and GYM LEADERS are often moral people
- indifferent to UXIE and TORNADUS
- comments that all of them will do the most, implicating the revelations. implies they do not trust fellow leaguers.

LUMINOUS

SLEEPLESS IN SLATEPORT

HE STARES FOR A GOOD WHILE. empty and honest. beholden to what lies before him despite well knowing the deceit clouds his perception. which is why he doesn’t move. voluntary paralysis that inhibits bad decision by robbing himself of that agency.

so that he may convince himself otherwise. for she cannot be who he thinks her to be. no matter how much she may look it, down to the minute details, the very scars that trace along her forearm—it is impossible.

because such a reality would be too rewarding for all that he’s been through.

all he has yet to see out.

yet, she does not fade from his vision no matter how long he reasons this out. he blinks, once, twice, and her form holds just as it did in the other world. white hair just as stained as saffron city snow. white on the surface but withered with age.

it reminds him of their first christmas together. alone. somewhere lost in memories of goldenrod and johto.

eventually, impulse wins out. his approach is slow and disarming. telegraphed from a distance.

“the festivities are over.”

[attr="class","spiralpee"]
Elisabeth Fiorelli

LUMINOUS

SLEEPLESS IN SLATEPORT

THE CITY THAT NEVER SLEEPS dies when it loses its people. festivities that draw long into the night always come to an end. the human spirit cannot last forever. it decays, reminded of its own mortality with sore feet and cramping legs. a small price to pay for a feast of song and dance, but a toll nonetheless.

in high spirits, they flee the streets, ready to rest their weary souls. the pristine white snow that accentuated the winter spectacle is stained with peaking cement and dirty footprints. confetti and burnt fireworks now litter as far as the eye can see. the rotten core left behind once a sweet fruit has been devoured.

a chore that will be handled when the sun rises. a responsibility left for later.

the dredge that fernando surrounds himself with as he stares up at the full moon.

the lunar new year is supposed to be the most important holiday in his culture. he cares not for it, or any remnants of his upbringing, but the words still haunt him. about how much it means to those in kanto. to saffron, and therefore the silphs.

to the person who would laugh that his preference in holiday is still out of duty rather than free agency. the same person who now haunts his night as a second life in an alternate universe plagues his dreams as reoccurring nightmares.

a phantom who stays behind with him as his eye draws to her figure.

an illusion that does not exist. an anomaly he can reason around while the rest of his body denies his line of reasoning. for he can see her. smell her. hear the silence between them as his thoughts secedes to what he wants to be true.

[attr="class","spiralpee"]
Elisabeth Fiorelli

• player/ooc name: spiral
• character tags: FERNANDO SILPH
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ELYSIUM

FATHER WINTER 2

WHEN I DREAM, i swim through the ocean but the waves are made up of stars. each one twinkles with stories of the past. chapters we have forgotten. tales that slip through my fingers as i wade father away from shore. and when i can’t swim any farther, i float on my back, in awe of a sky full of words and whispers.

what do you dream of, nando?

i dream of you, he thinks but never says. for he never has the chance.

everything they’ve been through. every day they have lived, flashed before him. sped up in a fast forward that plays before his very eyes. but he has no agency here.

he knows this. he recognizes this. but he cannot do anything but play observer. a victim of his own perspective as sleep paralysis crushes him in a brief flash.

because he can feel it slipping. that all his time away now becomes an incomprehensible blur as he is torn away from their shabby little life in sootopolis.

he can see the UNOWN revolve around him. see the fear in her eyes as admiration starts to flower in her curiosity. she is scared, yes, but never afraid. the world has proven too wondrous for her to shy away from its great mystique.

what’s happening, she says with her eyes.

his lips move but no noise comes out. move, his mind screams, but his fingers refuse to move. he lays there, in stasis, as his memories start to breakdown between the life he has lived and this second chance that threatens to replace it.

no, no, no, no.

in his final moment, he breaks free, hand thrust out to reach for her.

i won’t leave you again, he screams.

and then he’s gone.

leaving the one asylum that has ever given him peace.

[attr="class","spiralpee"]

ELYSIUM

FATHER WINTER 2

THE WORLD DOES NOT REVOLVE AROUND ANY ONE PERSON, she says. no matter who they are. or what they can do. because even if that was the truth, to admit it would take all the magic away. for the soul is shackled to our illusion of free will.

we must believe it to discover what we can do. to how far we can push ourselves. to understand what it means to be us.

he thinks about those words as she snuffs the candlelight by their bedside. mulls what that means when this world prospers without him. for she does not leave him this time around. he stops her.

moves the world beyond its great axis, to prolong what time they have left.

and it is better for it.

there is no fernando silph.

no one to let rocket scatter the silph family. to give them the edge they need to ramp up momentum in their conquest of kanto.

which is why the region never falls. MATIAS SILPH rises in his place. surrounded by the capable children that have been bred as his replacement.

which means they never spread to hoenn. not with the same waves that had crashed onto SLATEPORT in their first great invasion.

key players never move from their spot on the chess board. moves are never taken in account of turning pawns into queens. the world remains simple.

free from gods and aliens. untouched by planes and universes.

all because he does not take action.

we are all specks of dust screaming for our existence in this world. some, louder than others, but all quiet whispers in the great passage of time.

[attr="class","spiralpee"]