Mourning Glory

Hello again, Elisabeth Fiorelli.

Things were not going well.

"... We'll back soon." Gwyar muttered softly, placing down a bouquet of flowers. Behind him, his oldest friend stood stoically with both arms folded behind his back, guarding the man.

With each second that passed, the Darkest Day continued to rampage through Galar. His calls were not reaching home, unsurprisingly. The Crown Tundra's reception had been awful even before Galar's infrastructure was crippled. With any luck, the emails he sent would fare better.

The only thing that allowed him to maintain the illusion of sanity was the fact that the news had yet to report the Darkest Day comin' close to the Crown Tundra.

Under any normal circumstances, he would've been on a flight to Galar already. Unfortunately, the dome around Hoenn remained impenetrable- and, Gwyar feared that even if it weren't, he would merely go home to die if he were to try and stop the Darkest Day on his own.

The blonde man's brow furrowed deeply as he closed his eyes and breathed in, his hands tightening into fists. Behind him, the Gallade stiffened ever so slightly, his own fists tightening behind his back. Not only could he feel his long time friend's emotions, he could understand them as well. His family was as his own...

"... Let's go back, Gawain." The man said after a moment, the tension in body releasing as his expression softened into a downcast look. "We've a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

He had given his report to the Commissioner dahlia goode and INTERPOL. He had taken leave from work. For the next month... he had much to do.

"...?" The large man's brow creased. Almost as if he could feel a gaze upon him, his eyes rose, head turning slightly until his green eyes fell upon the vaguely familiar pair of a woman. "Ah."

It took a moment, but a name eventually came to the forefront.

"Elisabeth..." He mouthed her name lowly while looking at the woman.

Normally, he enjoyed running across beautiful women to whom he shared at best dubious life-or-death related ties, but given his mood and the fact that they were in a memorial place...

Didn't matter. He had acknowledged her, so courtesy said he couldn't just leave anymore. With a carefully crafted mask, he began to approach the woman with measured steps.

"... Lady Elisabeth." He said, nodding. "Evening."

Ah, right.

"Ah- I failed to give my name last we spoke, did I not?" He said, before folding an arm over his chest. The Gallade behind him mirrored the man, both bowing lightly at the waist. "I am Gwyar Wledig. I did not properly repay you for saving my life before we parted ways. You have my deepest apologies."

Unfortunately, he had not been expecting to ever see this woman again, so he was not carrying any gifs... Curse his lack of foresight.

---

Mourning Glory

Hello again, Elisabeth Fiorelli.

The man nodded as she brushed off his apologies, his blank expression shifting as his lips quirked up ever so slightly.

"I see. Then I pray my thanks alone will be enough." He said, "Thank you, Miss Fiorelli."

The Gallade remained firmly rooted behind the knight even as the Gardevoir moved forward, though his crimson gaze shifted to acknowledge her.

"Not at all. As a matter of fact, we were just about to depart." Said Gwyar, moving much the same as the woman...

So you know, they were walking together to the exit. How very convenient! The Gallade stood aside and let the humans pass before following behind the man.

"... If I may ask, Miss Fiorelli." The man said after a moment of walking. Awkward silences were his forte, but he was curious, so... "Are you perhaps from Kalos?"

---

Mourning Glory

Hello again, Elisabeth Fiorelli.

A knowing smile tugged at the man's lips at her response.

"Haha. Je dois admettre que la réponse était évidente." The man replied to her Kalosian in kind, subduing his strong accent surprisingly well. "Southern Kalos..."

His studies from decades back came back to him immediately. Region, geography, fauna, flora, logistics, military might (rather, lack thereof), economy... A whole lot of likely outdated information came rushing at him.

When she began speaking of the old family business, the man could only smile.

"Yes, in my youth- perhaps a little more than I should have." The man admitted, prompting an irreverent snort from the Gallade behind him. The man smirked over his shoulder; the Gallade stared back blankly, utterly innocent. "... The Fiorelli House, from the Barony of Camphrier, yes?"

He tilted his head. What in the world was a noble woman of her beauty doing in Hoenn...? Usually, by her seeming age, noble ladies were long married.

"How curious." He uttered, tilting his head. "... Was?"

He hadn't been keeping up with noble trends since his falling out with his Father- nowadays they were back on speaking terms, but the man hadn't really ever gone back to caring about matters of nobility- specially seeing how they were a dying breed in these modern times.

Such as.

"That's... Oh my. I'm terribly sorry to hear that." The man said, brow furrowing. Still, his governing mind kicked in a moment later. "How strange, though. I had estimated they would become a titan in the Kalosian Wine industry back then..."

After a moment, he simply shrugged it off. He had been a young man back then; his estimates could certainly miss the mark.

---

Mourning Glory

Hello again, Elisabeth Fiorelli.

The knight politely accepted the woman's words and smile without further questioning, simply attributing the fall of yet another Noble House to a failure to adapt to the times.

"Oh?" He uttered, tilting his head. "Are you working as a florist now, per chance?"

She had mentioned earlier she was 'delivering some flowers'. He had thought it meant she was mourning her own losses, but now that he thought about it, 'delivering' didn't sound quite right for a visitor.

After he had asked so many questions, it was only fair for the lady to begin asking her own.

Though he had purposely obfuscated his identity as a noble man during his youth traveling around Galar, he hadn't been making such effort when arriving in Hoenn.

Though He hadn't once shared his status with anyone in the region, he hadn't exactly been going out of his way to hide it. It was a simple matter of no one ever asking the right questions and him feeling absolutely no inclination to share that part of himself.

He preferred to share tales of Freezington, of his knighthood, and, naturally, of his children.

There was an extremely brief moment in which hesitance clouded his pale green eyes.

"Nowadays, I am simply Sir Gwyar Wledig." He said after a moment. "To some, however, I am still Baron Freezington."

The Gallade behind him tilted his head slightly at the man, surprised.

Freezington, a Barony located within the Grand Duchy of the Crown Tundra- an oft rebellious vassal territory of Galar.

---

Mourning Glory

Hello again, Elisabeth Fiorelli.

Hers was a rather a Lady-like vocation, with a capital L.

"Is that so? I'm glad you were able to pursue your calling, despite the circumstances." He said. "I pray you'll let me see your work, sometime. I find myself purchasing flowers with alarming frequency, of late."

So many monuments had been erected in the past two years, so many people and pokemon had met unnecessary deaths. Hoenn was cursed- a land of death. A fitting birthplace for the Calamity that was the Darkest Day.

AND SPEAKING OF WHICH.

The Gallade flinched before the man did, the pokemon's breath hitching not at the innocent enough question, but at the man's sharp, emotional response. Almost as if jolted awake, it rose swiftly in alarm before slowly getting itself under control.

Though Gwyar's jaw had briefly tensed, his expression had remained stubbornly frozen in a blank, stoic mask. However, his hesitance in answering was rather obvious, allowing Elisabeth to manage an apology.

"... Indeed it was." The man said in a brief moment of heat. He caught himself a moment after however, flinching. "... My apologies, that was uncalled for. It's... it's a sensitive topic, but I should get over myself nonetheless."

He was rather used to stumbling into faux pas, despite his best efforts. He couldn't judge her it; if she had intended any harm, Gawain would've stepped into the conversation. Angrily.

"I do not miss Freezington, no." He said as he resumed walking. "It was a small, cold, desolate town, surrounded by a barren tundra and cruel, savage wild life."

At least, that was life there as he recalled it- as someone who barely actually lived there. Someone who only experienced Freezington as framed by his Father's strict training regime.

"But I do miss my family." His daughters, mostly. "I never expected to stay in Hoenn for so long. I kept putting off my return, wowed by the fantastical circumstances that continuously assailed the region, by the new relationships I had found myself forming; I thought I had found new meaning far away from my ancestral home. But now... I need to return to ensure my family's safety, yet, I am trapped. The irony is such, I could almost laugh, were it not for the constant stream of God awful news."

The man fell silent after a moment, gazing off ahead into the distance, mind far away.

"... And you, Miss Fiorelli?" He asked after a moment. "Do you miss your old home?"

---

Mourning Glory

Hello again, Elisabeth Fiorelli.

His mood did not grow much better despite her words, though the man put on a smile with practiced ease.

"I chose to overstay my welcome and must now stay for good; perhaps it's punishment, perhaps it's destiny." The man stopped and turned his gaze towards. Polluted with light as the city was, there was not a single star in the sky to be seen. "My family is not foolish enough to remain in Galar in these conditions... so I hope."

His father was stubborn, but he was also pragmatic. Even if he chose to stay, he would surely see his daughters out of Galar, possibly sent to their villa in Kalos.

Gwyar, on the other hand...

"I should probably worry about myself just a little more." The man said, gaze narrowing at the sky.

METENO. If he was to survive, the league had to succeed. He did not trust Team Rocket's ventures; even if they were to succeed, it would only worsen the reef between the people of Hoenn and their government.

No, the league was not allowed to fail. It seemed he would need to meet with dahlia goode soon.

"... I am terribly sorry to hear that." The man said softly as she answered his query, her brief words telling a whole story. No parents, no husband, no children, no family at all... Or no family willing to meet her.

He was beginning to grow curious. Some of these things didn't make sense...

The man stopped in his tracks at her question, looking mildly confused. Behind him, his Gallade popped his head over the man's side, looking equally bemused.

"Ah... Oh! You do not live in Sootopolis." The man realized belatedly; he had assumed the woman made her life in the city. Why else would she be here? Memorial or not, Sootopolis was still rocket territory... "My. You're quite fearless, dear me!"

The man laughed it off, not sure if he should've been impressed or worried for the woman, and choosing to instead do both. Between this and her presence at the Cloud, he was beginning to realize Elisabeth wasn't just some beautiful, unassuming florist and former noble...

But then, even the children in Hoenn leapt at the chance for adventure, so perhaps he shouldn't have been surprised.

"As a matter of fact, I was on my way to my tentative home." The man replied with a chuckle, giving the woman a flirty, if playful smile. "I thought you were as well."

Going to her own home, that is. Not his. That would be silly.

... Actually, it would be awful. A former noble Lady, in that vermin infested room-sized flat? Gods forbid.

"But... there's a cafe I know nearby." The man chuckled, before looking around. "Would you join me, briefly?"

---

Mourning Glory

Hello again, Elisabeth Fiorelli.

The man felt himself smile as her laughter rang through the empty streets of Sootopolis, it quickly turning to a toothy grin as she boldly called him out.

"Elisabeth, I would never imply such a thing." The man said... before winking. "But just for the record... I'm not strange."

An audible snort came out of the irreverent Gallade, the pokemon making a face at the man very briefly before immediately schooling himself back into neutrality just as the man glanced back.

"As a matter of fact, I do!" The man said, taking the lead confidently. They were not too far away, though admittedly the place was a little out of the way. "When one works for the Sootopolis police... coffee is less a pleasure, more of a necessity."

If you wanted to know where to get coffee in Sootopolis, you asked a cop. 9 times out of 10 they would point you towards the nearest place; the other time they were too busy being murdered in broad daylight.

It wasn't long before they made it to the coffee shop- a good thing, considering it had begun to thunder in the distance. The very first drops of rain had just begun to fall when the ringing of chimes welcomed them into a cozy establishment, the man opening the door briefly and stepping aside to let the lady inside before following behind.

[player]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/850907874325823529/873390743643906138/Rainy_Day_Cafe.mp3[/player]

As they entered, a bartender offering a welcome as a warmth settled upon them, Gwyar looked around briefly before pointing out one of several empty tables that struck his fancy.

"They've got some fun sounding items on the menu here." He said as he approached the bar and grabbed two single sheet menus, humming. "I usually just take a regular cup, though."

He was back with the woman soon after, looking around before his gaze immediately settled on the nearest table, pulling out a seat for the lady with a smile.

"You mentioned you lived near Petalburg earlier? That's quite far from Sootopolis..." He said as the waiter began to move in the background. He didn't care about that. "... Though the circumstances are sad and grim, business must be going well!"

---