MARCH UPDATE

POSTED ON Mar 18, 2019 9:00:58 GMT

dahlia goode likes this

recent events have caused his heart to hang heavy, full of remorse and regret and sorrow, unwilling to lighten no matter how hard he tries.

one section goes out to the commissioner, who had been missing for months without a single trace except for her pendant. before the rescue mission, there were whispers within the league hierarchy of giving up, of declaring her killed in action because that would have been easiest.

those hushed whispers have now been silenced, but the question of her wellbeing still remains.

knock, knock, knock..

alexander stands outside the door to the commissioner's house, located in the quaint city of ever grande. he had grown impatient of waiting for an official appointment through her office, but he now realizes that work is the last thing on one's mind after a tragedy. but unlike dahlia, alexander needs it to distract himself.

when the door finally opens, alexander greets her with a warm smile.

"commissioner goode! lovely to see you."

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TAG WITH @dahlia

POSTED ON Mar 19, 2019 6:49:31 GMT

Lucas Lane likes this

dahlia is less than graceful this day. over her feet are oversized piplup slippers, the round penguin head greeting alexander should he look down. she wears loose sweatpants below a thick sweater that tugs just below her waist. her more orderly fashions have been tucked away; after her kidnapping, she fusses less with impressing others.

"mr. stone!" she's surprised to see him, especially so soon after the funeral. "come in, come in. it's cold out."

the door swings back in full. immediately inside, a small rack for shoes is stationed to the side, the dusty shelving filled with forlorn heels. beside it, hanging from the wall, is a broad cape vest. one that is much too large for a typical human.

"wilfred?" from its worn rug, her stoutland lumbers over discreetly. no grand entrance. just the simple step-step-step of its heavy paws. the stoutland rests its paws on top of alexander's shoes and lays down. "he's usually tired after work..."

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POSTED ON Mar 20, 2019 2:53:30 GMT

the stark contrast in their attires is enough to catch alexander off guard, though the surprise lasts only for a few moments, dissipating in favor of curiosity as he steps into her humble home.

a large, towering stoutland approaches with heavy feet that thump against the floor. the sight of the canine is enough to bring a warm smile to his face that only grows when it lays its head atop his shoes. he bends at his knees, reaching down to give the stoutland many pats on its head.

"oh! i was not aware you returned to work. so soon, too."

pats turn into scratches as alexander moves his hand towards the back of stoutland's furry ears. he peers up at the commissioner, a look of genuineness on his face.

"thank you for attending the funeral. my father was always a supporter of yours. i remember him expressing his approval over your appointment as commissioner."

it is a humbling memory; a warm one.

"do not get me wrong! you have my support as well, which is part of the reason why i am here."

parting ways with the stoutland, at least for now, alexander rises back to his feet, gaze still on dahlia but will soon move after he asks his question.

"how have you been, commissioner?"

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POSTED ON Mar 22, 2019 4:44:52 GMT

ALEXANDER STONE likes this

a golden curl grazes her cheek as she shakes her head no. her smile stops short of its usual radiant breadth, sacrificing some strength to bear the entire world.

"oh, not me." dahlia's shoulder inclines as her fingers scratch against the stoutland's sturdy spine. "wilfred works every day— don't you, wilfy?" she coos and gestures to the vest hanging on the wall. on it, the insignia of the league is accompanied by the words 'therapy dog.' "he has a sense..."

dahlia discovers tragedy in the inability to separate grief and politics. despite her earnest presence at the funeral, the bending plastic of the political umbrella clouds her appearance to those on the outside.

"thank you." dahlia raises her hand, stopping alex. "call me dahlia. we're in my house. not the office."

she beckons him away from the vestibule and into a living room. the walls are grey-white. two couches flank a dark rug with a wooden coffee table. several magazines of "healthy hoenn living" are fanned out and unread.

"i've been good! resting! sleeping in." dahlia laughs. "don't tell anyone about that last one. would you like something to eat? drink?" the stoutland comes to a rest beside a couch. "or... is there another reason you're here like you've implied?"

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POSTED ON Mar 25, 2019 4:22:45 GMT

despite her prestigious title of commissioner, her home reflects a shade of humbleness that is often missing from someone of the same title. she favors simplicity, finding elegance in the small things like the wooden coffee table. it differs from his own home, and though their social status are equal, it intrigues him how she continues to remain humble.

perhaps the league is in good hands after all.

"what last one?" he jokes, shaking his head. "just water will be fine, thank you. and there is another reason, but i am in no rush unless you are."

alexander takes a seat on the couch next to the stoutland. taking a glance around the room, his gaze then trails her as she makes her way to the kitchen.

"you have a lovely home! i have always wanted to live in ever grande. maybe some day."

it's all small talk to delay the inevitable; he knows it, she knows it. but it is still small talk that must be made for the sake of shedding formalities.

"i simply wanted to check up on you, dahlia. to make sure you were okay."

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POSTED ON Apr 8, 2019 4:59:17 GMT

at the request, dahlia slips into the kitchen like a seaside breeze. a refrigerator door opens. the persistent hum of the appliance now loud and apparent, dahlia reaches in and pulls out two cans, their tin bodies knocking into each other clumsily. behind her, the refrigerator closes and the hum is silenced.

she reappears. one hand precariously holding the two cans from their heads. their designs are colorful. like the eccentric patterns of a public bus seat in the 80s or 90s.

"i'm not sure if you enjoy sparkling water," dahlia says, setting one can down on the table. she sits across from him and opens hers, the tab pulled to release the fizzy sizzle, "but i really need to get rid of these." she laughs and takes a sip of tv static before setting the can on the table.

dahlia crosses her legs and pushes on the cushion of the couch with both hands.

"oh ever grande is nice to look at, but the property tax makes you question if it's even worth it." she provides her full attention to alexander. no inkling of distraction shrouds her face. instead, her concentration simultaneously straddles worlds of docility and intensity. "thank you, but i'll be fine. i'm getting counseling, receiving support... i know how to take care of myself."

she smiles a small one.

"you have to learn how to take care of yourself in this job." she centers her gaze on him further. "and yours."

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POSTED ON Apr 10, 2019 1:59:00 GMT

sparkling water is definitely new, but he appreciates the sentiment behind it. smiling, he accepts his and follows her lead, pulling the tab up to a fizzy sizzle.

"i have never tried, but i am happy to help."

laughing, chuckling, it all lasts for a brief moment before he raises the can to his mouth. the electric sparkle dances in his mouth and against his tongue. it's an odd sensation, but it's oddly pleasant as it flows down the back of his throat.

dahlia's words bring with them a sense of relief. though he bears no personal connection to her, he is glad to hear that she is receiving the proper help she needs. the same cannot be said for him.

"i am afraid i am a bit more stubborn than you." he chuckles but it is brief. "i am not too sure how to grief or if i even want to. work keeps me occupied enough where i do not have to decide."

alexander doesn't say it, but he is envious of the copious amount of support she is receiving. he does not have that luxury: his mother is grieving, his sister is absent, and so all the responsibility falls to him, and with rustboro also on his shoulders, he feels the weight of it all on him.

"but i am glad to hear you are doing well, dahlia. i know the people are pushing for your return, but take care of yourself first. your council is doing well."

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POSTED ON Apr 23, 2019 1:43:24 GMT

"oh, but i have returned." dahlia accepts a tiny sip of bubbles before setting the can down. "i've basically been resurrected." her body still pangs with ghostly sores, and despite silas' haunting hold, she revels in the pain.

she feels alive. unlike a newly birthed phoenix, dahlia still burns with a quiet intensity. and some of that fire flares in the way she presses forward in her seat.

"so i've heard!" dahlia's eyes glint with that burning gold. "interesting how quickly people moved into those seats. i'm glad we have such ambitious allies, don't you?" she knits her fingers together, setting her hands daintily on her lap.

dahlia abandons the cool beverage on the table. her stoutland does not stir.

"tell me, alexander." dahlia says. "what can i do for you? any concerns? any needs not being met?"

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POSTED ON Apr 23, 2019 6:34:08 GMT

alexander's eyes widen in slight surprise. "oh! i had no idea." the hidden implications behind his words are there and it scares him: the thought of not knowing; has he really been that out of it? to not even know the commissioner's returned. his brows furrow, hidden by the ends of his fresh green hair that hangs over his forehead.

dahlia's energy is radiant, he sees it now. alexander cannot help but attempt to reflect the same amount of energy, his own spirits now lifted.

"i am. their ambition is what will keep the region safe."

and yet, his own ambitions could not keep his father safe.

alexander leans forward in his chair for a brief moment to also discard the fizzy drink on the table. his eyes trail off to the side of the room as he gathers his thoughts, soon falling onto dahlia with an accompanied smile.

"it is time for me to be as equally ambitious."

if dahlia is perceptive enough she'd see the slight twitch in his fingers. alexander doesn't wait too long before clarifying.

"hoenn needs a champion."

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TAG WITH @dahlia

POSTED ON May 22, 2019 2:19:46 GMT

ambition. that accursed word haunts the inks of her paperwork, the black gossip slithering between old, hairy ears. it rests within the momentary shadows cast underneath her heels as they tap through hallways so hallowed by the sculpted veneer of past political dynasties.

dahlia just wanted to do what was best for the region.

and so, her ambition was selfless to her eyes. the transferal of power: benign. however, the more and more she settles in to her seat, the more the upholstery grows cold with a chilling scene of complacency.

"champion?"dahlia asks. "and how are you going to straddle between your duties as gym leader and champion, if you were to become it? i'm always wary of mixing blatant politics with that position," she utters quietly, "like i am wary about mixing corporations with government seats."

her next remark leaps.

"perhaps, if it's only temporary. until a suitable replacement can be found. i'll have to light a fire under some of the other GLs to complete more officiated battles."

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devon

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POSTED ON May 22, 2019 2:50:49 GMT

champion. alexander's resolve steels through her commanding words, unwilling to budge even when questioned. he shakes his head.

"no politics. not this time. all i care about is the safety of the region and its people."

mixing corporations with government seats; alexander almost laughs. however wary she may be dahlia cannot deny that corporations ultimately strengthen government seats; turn wood into steel, devon and silph have done just that. the region would be in a much different state without them.

and she knows it.

"i have always been involved in the affairs of the region. i may be bound to rustboro but my reach extends across hoenn. i simply lacked the resources to make a difference."

alexander cannot hide the soft smile to sneaks up.

"and now i have them."

his posture straightens, gaze never once breaking. this is exactly what the region needs: a leader to help them through dire times.

"some fires have already been lit. lavaridge and mauville, for example. the others will soon follow. i believe i have found replacements for dewford and sootopolis, but i have to assess their abilities a bit more before making a decision."

an air of brevity passes, washing away the intensity of the conversation. for moments there is nothing but relished silence.

alexander nods, bowing his head ever so slightly.

"thank you, dahlia."

dahlia goode

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POSTED ON Jun 1, 2019 22:47:37 GMT

the commissioner listens. listens well. her practiced poise is an otherworldly porcelain, free from the underbelly of a dirty trade- or so she believes. believes blindly. the transferal of power is to be trusted. the process is perfect. porcelain, even.

but she doesn't realize the dramatics of her uneven set-up.

her lithe form, wrapped in the warmth of her comfortable sweats, leans forth at a motherly angle. she grasps one of alexander's hands in hers, cradling his suffering like a madonna and her child. a small huff from the stoutland brightens her already radiant smile.

"no, thank you." her voice, barely a whisper, is carried by a gratitude pulled from deep inside. "it's good to have people you can trust."

dahlia gives him a squeeze. her signature of approval before releasing him, pulling away like a white cloth drifting back on a ghostly tide.

"there is fine print though." a hand remains on her stoutland, fingers combing through thick quilted fur. "you need to promise me to be careful... since the nature of this appointment is most certainly going to place a target on your head."

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POSTED ON Jun 11, 2019 13:53:15 GMT

"you have my word."

if only it were that easy. a target has been on his head long before this discussion and it will only grow in size after this. he knows it and he's planned for it. he won't allow himself to be caught off guard like before. there will be no repeats of what happened to harold stone.

the league has been on its back foot, fighting against threats they cannot predict for far too long. now it's time for them to retaliate. and retaliate they will.

dahlia's signature of approval is met with a smile. there is nothing in the air but warmth, surrounded by the little things that make up a home. her home.

when things are finally settled and the discussion has passed, only then does alexander rise from the comfortable chair. he looks to her with unrivaled determination.

"thank you for the hospitality, dahlia. rest well."

taking a few steps towards the door, he pauses for a second and turns back once more.

"oh. i will get started on the elites."

dahlia goode

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POSTED ON Jun 19, 2019 5:16:56 GMT

ALEXANDER STONE likes this

"oh don't mention it." dahlia waves the gratitude away, fingers curling to grab secret wisps of it as he departs. "sadly, i won't be able to rest now... because of all the paperwork this will bring me. thank you, stone. thank you."

a theatric sigh parachutes from her mouth as she falls lazily on to her side. her face nestles softly into the warm nook of her elbow.

"oh, it is about time, isn't it?"

from her collapsed heap on the couch, the tired commissioner flutters her fingers goodbye.