the ascendant
she/her
twenty-nine
November 03
sootopolis
demisexual
councilwoman
champion
i got new love, new skin to wrap myself in
driven [research]
POSTED ON Jul 19, 2019 16:02:53 GMT
[attr="class","freypost"]her research lost its priority. the conversation she'd had with pacifidlog's elder was nearly two months ago at this point. she'd become busy with her council duties, had written off her quest as a silly fantasy. chasing legendary dragons, gods of old, when there were real problems plaguing the region?
and then mossdeep happened.
she's just outside the armory of the dragons' den, pouring over an enlarged photograph of the painting. dozens of other sheets of paper litter the rest of her workspace. her cousin emerges from the armory with another steaming pot of coffee, a small bagon following at her heels.
"thank you," she says and then goes back to her work. offhandedly, she asks, "how are the modifications to his armor?"
"very well. he should be ready to go within the next half hour or so. have you narrowed it down at all?"
she nods, points towards a secluded section of photos containing three images, side by side. willow asks something else, but freya's lost interest, too engrossed in what's in front of her. she places her palms on either side of the photos, stares down at them without really seeing them.
her vision blurs. bodies litter the streets of mossdeep. that's what she remembers most. in flashes, she sees twisted legs, shredded torsos, things that were once human, obliterated beyond recognition. pokemon turned inside out, smothered by buildings, flattened by the enormous paws of the beast.
she shudders, breath hitching. we can't do this alone.
what a fool she was to give up on this so easily. i could have made a difference. and she's stuck wallowing, stuck shoving back tears, stuffing those images in a too-full box that bursts open on the daily, when she sees it.
vision askew, half-sight, she gasps, lunges forward and grabs for the photo.
her gut wrenches. what if i'm wrong? but she can't think about that now, can't think about the implications. she rides this high, folds the paper and shoves it in her pocket.
lyune is waiting for her. silver and blue armor adorns him. a helm protects his head, though his fins slide out from under it as she approaches. his soft sides are protected now; thick white scales already cover his belly so that remains unencumbered. he stands proudly as she surveys him.
at his left and right flank two more salamence, both outfitted in similar armor. ori's is modified for speed; fewer and smaller pieces protect his hide, while meru's is thicker, even more so than lyune's. her helm houses horns, and spikes just out from her sides.
she reaches for lyune and he dips his neck just as she hoists herself up by his shoulder blade. she nestles neatly into the saddle, foot finding the mechanism that stabilizes his crippled wing.
her dragons rise.
water rushes beneath them as sootopolis disappears behind. they fly in a tight formation. freya watches ori and meru, and when the bulky female begins to struggle against the weight of her armor, freya returns her, taking mental note how long she'd been able to keep up. ori slows nearly half an hour later and freya returns him too, fitting both their balls neatly back into her circlet, murmuring her thanks.
aeris and sypha twist beside lyune now, and freya is grateful for their company. her closest companions will help plead her case. if this isn't all for naught.
islands pass below her and freya prays to whatever being will listen. and as they near the island that resembles her photograph, she finds herself leaning into lyune, running her fingers over his scales, seeking a small amount of comfort as he lands.
pZIBowc2 x x x |
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