A DETAILED ACCOUNT OF THE STURCTURE OF THE BORDER: OVERVIEW

A report by Tempest Quinn with assistance in formatting by Cillian Quinn . This report is free for all of Rocket to view, but would end up on the desks of higher ups before being trickled down the line.

Multiple photographs are provided of each detail given. At the end of the report, Temp thanks to contributions of Rockets like fern delaney , jayden cross , Zev Harcourt , Naomi Sato , Cillian Quinn , Isaac Merlo , BARNABY FINCH , kepler brueshaber , Ashley Shepard, and anyone else who Yams may have missed ooc.

SECTION ONE: THE BORDER

The Border is, as we understand it, a Rift in dimensions that lays at the top of Mt. Chimney. The best description of this area for those unenlightened is that it seems to be 'The Border Between Life and Death', hence to name given to the anomaly. This rift opened up during the battle on Mt. Pyre, in which the DRK Triad intervened with what was assumed to be Palkia. Since then, expeditions have taken place to explore the reaches of this strange realm.

The Border is not solid in it's geography like our plane is. It seems to be ever shifting and expanding, the topography changing with each visit. While there do seem to be certain 'landmarks', other than a few notable cases these appear to move around in distance from the entrance. This had made expansion into The Border difficult, as one could set up a base camp, leave, and then the same coordinates take you to a new place entirely on the next visit.

While it is not accurate to say there is 'life' in the Border, there are many notable dangers. It appears that the spirits of the deceased end up in this realm. Many pokemon that have expired have ended up here. There are also the spirits of people, though those seem to have a harder time manifesting without some type of corruption. For the most part they prove hostile in my experience.

The realm itself is also dangerous. It seems to have certain mind altering abilities; too much time inside of the Border without a Sygna Suit or similar protection will see one experiencing extreme paranoia. There are also sudden and random unnatural bouts of emotions that make one act irrationally.

SECTION TWO: THE SEALS

A previously mentioned in this report, The Border shifts in topography frequently. However, there are a few constants. The most notable and the subject of this report is the four Seals. There is one in each cardinal direction around the entrance of the Border on Mt. Pyre.

Each Seal is in a vastly different environment, some of them hidden and some out in the open. Each Seal has strange markings carved into the front. These markings glow.

The first theory I had was that these markings were another language previously unseen in Hoenn. However, with support from Rocket's top scientists and much research into the matter, it was concluded that the symbols were not a language. It is currently unknown what the symbols on the doorways mean.

Each Seal's door was already open at the time of discovery. Inside of each doorway, on first glance, is a small and dark chamber. Further exploration reveals that this entrance chamber hides another entrance that leads further inside. From there similarities end and it is better to break down each one individually.

THE NORTH SEAL

The North Seal is found against the base of the mountain. When the Seal itself is touched it is inert. There have been many reports of strong Fear in the people who approach this Seal. The inside of the Seal doors show some type of scratching and wear on the inside, most similar in composition to deer rubbing horns on a tree.

A search deeper into the hidden chamber of this Seal is dangerous due to sudden and sharp drops into a deep fissure. Due to that and the added darkness of the mountain overhead, a large team of skilled climbers and cavers would be needed to explore further into the depths of this Seal to see what it hides.

THE SOUTH SEAL

The South Seal is found in the middle of a cliff-side. When the Seal itself is touched it is cold and icy, as if frozen, and the area around the Seal is chilly. This is of note because the area appears to be grassy and tepid. The inside of the Seal is marked with many claw marks, similar to that of a large cat's. Many who approach this Seal report a strong feeling of Hatred.

The hidden chamber in this Seal is icy and bitter cold. Snow sits in drifts around the room. It almost appears to be the nest or den of an animal.

With this Seal, I have personally seen and been attacked by a large feline creature while inside. It was white with what appeared to be two halves of a broken sword as protruding fangs. It was vicious and powerful and unlike any pokemon I have seen before. It was banished with a Cleanse Tag but we are unsure if it perished or was just stopped for the moment.

THE EAST SEAL

This Seal is found in a small cavern behind a waterfall. This Seal is dangerous to the touch and can cause third degree burns if one is not careful. There is no notable markings on the inside of the Seal's doorway as in other Seals, but there is a copious amount of soot and scorched rock inside. Those around it report a feeling of Envy.

The hidden chamber in this one is smaller than the rest with not much to show. It is sweltering hot inside and there are more scorch marks on the walls. However, if one looks closely they may find granules of green rock (Jade?) in the corners of the chamber.

THE WEST SEAL

This Seal is found in the middle of a massive tree; it appears to be a Jukobbo tree. This Seal is inert to the touch like the North Seal. People around this Seal report feelings of Bitterness. Most odd about this Seal is the lack of details inside of the Seal's first inner chamber. It appears to have been smoothed and worn down, like sandpaper or water has run over the stone inside. The room is almost perfectly rounded. It is unknown if this was what all the Seals are supposed to look like or another oddity.

The hidden chamber inside of this seal is plain with the same smoothness of the entrance chamber. However, many strange plants with green and yellow leaves cling to the cavern walls. These vines are very pungent and extremely bitter; samples have been collected to test but as of yet there are no results.

SECTION THREE: HYPOTHESIS

Given the findings and unusual nature of the Seals themselves and multiple trips to the Border, plus my own experience, I have a hypothesis to raise about the nature of the Seals themselves. In this Hypothesis I am also enlisting a call to action for Rocket for those who may be interested in furthering out cause and grasping power for themselves.

These Seals contained powerful pokemon. While I do not have an exact reasoning for why they were placed there or how they escaped, something was trying to keep them inside. Power like that could point them to be on par with other Legendary pokemon. Appending them or coaxing them to join Rocket's cause could be a powerful boon for the organization and the takeover of Hoenn at large.

I also have reason to believe we will not find the Pokemon themselves inside of these Seals. Given the Border being open and people and pokemon seeming to come back to 'life', it is not unlikely that these pokemon could have also crossed over into Hoenn. I have compiled a list of areas below that I believe we may find evidence of these pokemon. I implore Rocket to search these areas, and Hoenn at large, for information. If you see or find anything unusual report it to the Labs ASAP so we can investigate if it is related to these pokemon.

We need to take them or nullify them before the League has a chance.

THE LIST

Below, Temp has compiled a list of areas he suspects each of the four pokemon may be hiding. He does not know the accuracy of these areas and further research may see places being added or removed.

The North Shrine
A rocky environment. Proposals are the desert, the area west of Lilycove, or perhaps in the rugged terrain at the base of Mt. Chimney.

The South Shrine
Somewhere cold. Proposals are the Icelands or Shoal Cavern; there are less places for this due to the tropical weather in Hoenn.

The East Shrine
Somewhere hot. The desert is once again a likelihood but the crater of Mt. Chimney could also be likely. Anywhere with some type of high heat.

The West Shrine
The woody environment makes this one more hard to place down. Propositions are either deep in Petalburg woods or in the vicinity west of Fortree.

WHAT WE LOVE, WHAT WE REMEMBER

A hair clip sits heavy in Temp's pocket.

Old in make. An antique. Yet it has a sheen to it not of age. Temp remembers how it held red hair pinned back.

He bites his lip.

Obsession was common in the Rararie line. His mother's blood had filled him with it. Now, instead of throwing himself into a world of death over and over to sate his desires, he sits over notebooks. Half a dozen of them. He'd stayed up late into the night in the weeks following the incident in the Ancient Galar. His blocky handwriting filling pages and pages of what sounds like the rambling of a mad man. Of what he can remember of twenty years lost.

Already he can feel it fading at the edges.

Temp is no artist, he can not draw the face of Diot to try and look back on. Only one drawing sits in any of the notebooks. A rabbit-like figure with a bulbous head. Calyrex.

Even after time had passed, that creature had always resonated with him. A pity and kinship mixed into one. People often cared little for forgotten legends and cultures.

How painful had it been? To be forgotten so completely and so long ago?

Temp doesn't want to think about it. Temp wants to drag a hairbrush through his daughter's long hair before bed and tease her over all the boys who try so hard to impress her.

It is in obsession and grief and mourning that drags Temp from his nest of blankets on his and Cillian's bed.

Bags sit under his eyes in deep imprints. His chin is scruffy where he hasn't bothered to shave. Hair is mussy and greasy. Clothes rumpled.

But he fists notebooks in his hands.

For the first time in weeks since 'returning home', Temp goes to visit his father.

THE VILLAGE IN THE SEA

Temp stands before Tulio like a ragged and mangy dog.

He pointedly ignored the concern and confusion written on his father's face. Temp doesn't want to talk about it. He hadn't even managed to talk about it with Cillian Quinn yet. To breach into that particular topic would undam a flood. His whole body would lay in tatters as he cried and poured all of himself into his grief.

So Temp doesn't talk about it.

Instead.

"Do we have any big hunks of saltwood?"

Tulio seems as surprised as Temp does by asking it.

This actually wasn't what he had come here for. But, as with any Rararie, Tempest is single minded. It's easy to focus on a task than ask for any proper help. There needed to be time to process what the hell had happened before he could open up about it, anyway.

Tulio regards Tempest again. His expression is conflicted. But, in the end, he just pulls him son in close for a hug.

"We'll have to go and look."

And so they do.

Granny Lana kept most of the saltwood. It was her duty as a Shrine Guardian she always claimed. The tattoo on her arm designated her as such. Yet, without any shrines to actually guard, most of her work was set to collect saltwood.

Saltwood was sturdy and hard to come by. Usually you found it in smaller chunks in the ocean water. Trees dragged out to sea that soaked in the water in such a way to preserve it. The process was mostly unknown since attempts to replicate it had always failed, just leading to waterlogged and rotting wood.

But the pieces they found were stunning. Hard like petrified wood but still malleable to touch and shape. It seemed to glitter on the inside when cut open.

An old story said that the Mother Goddess of the Sea would take all the sorrow and squeeze into the wood herself, so that humanity could make it into something beautiful. Temp had always liked that story as a child.

"What do you need this for?" Granny Lana's home was small and cramped. It smelled like salt and dried fish; a comfort for Temp. The old woman ran her wizened brown eyes up him and then gave a concerned look to Tulio at his side.

Tulio, making sure Temp couldn't see, just shrugged and shook his head. As bewildered by his state as she was. As everyone had been when he crawled off his Lapras' back and staggered to see his father.

Regardless, there were customs and boundaries in place.

"You're not sachem yet. And they can't demand this, either. Spit it out." Her tone is harsh but not unkind. Stemmed from alarm more than anything.

"I want to build a statue." Temp's voice shakes. The damp notebook in his hand is pulled to his chest as he digs nails into the cover.

"A statue...?" Tulio pipes up, looking from Granny Lana to Tempest, brows knit.

"I..." And Temp hesitates for a moment. His eyes fall to the ground and the other two with him can see it; they'd known him all his life after all. How he deflates. How grief and pain and misery swim over his features. Temp hesitates and they see the raw pain that takes him.

Quiet.

Temp swallows down his tears but they still shine, unshed, in his eyes.

He wishes he had given her one last hug.

"... I had a vision. I need to build this."

And they know that Temp wouldn't... lie, per say, but that this isn't the full truth.

"Fine."

And Granny Lana takes them to the storage of the precious material.

When Temp leaves, his precious cargo all bundled up in tow, Granny Lana finds Tulio at his home.

"What happened to him?" The earlier gruffness is still there. She demands it like spitting venom. It is protective.

Tulio just shakes his head, his own kind of misery settling in his bones.

"I don't know."

Tulio calls Cillian for three days looking for answers he knows Temp won't give.

On the 4th he travels to Sootopolis himself.

THE VILLAGE UPON THE TREES

The next stop is Fortree.

In Temp's opinion, the Children of the Sky had done the best for themselves between the three Child of the Mother Goddesses. Fortree was large and beautiful and well taken care of, all things considered. Where Pacifidlog was mostly just Children of the Sea and other poor folks with little to their name (or had been, until recent few years), Fortree was a mix and bustle of activity. A proper city that rose high above the ground in harmony with the pokemon who lived there.

It isn't easy to find the actual people whose work originally built up this place if you don't know where to look for it.

The Carver's Club was a small group with their own building at the very edge of the city. Many skilled craftsmen worked and sold wares there, from small sculptures to larger pieces of furniture. A few of the people who mingled inside were outsiders (in a way), but keen eyes would be able to see how many of the men and women here shared Temp's dark skin and the shape of his eyes and nose. Enough to be similar without being distinct.

He approaches the counter and gives a small, if ragged, smile to the woman behind it.

There were secrets hidden here.

"I need to speak with Sachem Lauaki."

Whatever the woman had been expecting, it probably wasn't that. She frowns and shakes her head.

"Sachem Lauaki isn't taking visitors today."

"I'm Heir Sachem of the Sea. I need to ask a favor." The woman flicks her eyes up and down him, showing no signs she believed him, but did vanish into a door behind the counter. It takes time, longer than it should, but eventually Lauaki does breach from behind the doorway.

He is a massive man. His belly is as round as his arms, thick from years of wrestling and heaving lumber up and down the ladders here. The set of his jaw is firm. Yet when he spies Temp, actually takes him in, he hisses and his features soften a bit.

"Come here." He grabs Temp and yanks him behind the counter, which makes the woman (who had followed him out of the door), dart out of the way. The space is crowded back here, after all. Lauaki uses his wide frame to hide Temp from prying eyes and pushes him back into the space behind the door.

Temp's been back here before. It's filled with old timers and workers sitting around tables. They smoke, play cards, and chatter about life. Many of them look up and give nods and seem curious. But Lauaki just shakes his head at them and ushers Temp to follow him to one of the back tables.

He starts to deal them both a hand. Temp sorts his cards idly and plays a game he's memorized since childhood. he won't win against Lauaki, no one ever could, but it gives them both something to do with their hands.

"Fool boy! Why are you darkening my doorstep. You here to try and convince us to join your little gang? I already told Tulio that as soon as you started with that I would-"

Even as he rants Temp can see there is worry. Even within the other clans, they were still family.

The lot of them were all they had left after all this time.

"I want you to build a statue for me." Temp cuts off the ranting, placing down a counter card to steal away Lauaki's points.

"If you just wanted a carving, why not contact us another way? Or have your father do it? Isn't this dramatic?"

Temp has all the points stolen back.

He places all his cards face down on the table.

"I need a shrine statue built. This isn't a normal request."

Lauaki places his cards down as well.

"Norman.... are you okay?"

Temp is quiet. His eyes are rimmed with red that isn't from his makeup.

"My child is dead."

Lauaki balks, eyes widening in shock before softening into something like pity. Temp can feel the lie rolling on his tongue. But was it really a lie? He isn't sure. It was fuzzy at the edges.

The hair-clip in his pocket feels heavier than before.

"I-I didn't know you... I thought your soulmate was a man, so I assumed..." The man trails off, flustered.

An awkward silence sits over them. Temp chews on his words as he thinks of what to say.

"I brought saltwood for it. I'm going to see if the Lands will burn it for us." He closes his eyes when Lauaki makes a small noise, the man choking on his own tongue.

"Of your child?"

"No. Of something I remember."

"But a... a shrine like this, you know what that means to all of us... right?"

"I know."

They sit with just the background hum of the chattering again. Temp stares at the pile of cards on the table without really seeing them.

"... okay." Quiet, Lauaki finally speaks. He looks pained. But there is a sadness in his eyes, too. A sympathy for Tempest.

It was no secret what the Rararie name had endured the last few generations.

"I'll work on the statue myself for the shrine. What do you have in mind?"

Temp is not very good at drawing.

But with both of them working, something tangible starts to take shape.

The VILLAGE BY THE FLAME

Lavaridge will be the hardest of the three stops.

Sachem Maili was only a few years older than Tempest. She was hot blooded and fiery, much like her home. While the Children of the Sky had always been on better terms with the Children of the Sea, there was ancient and bad blood between them and the Children of the Land. Many bitter battles over land and ownership had taken place in ancient times.

While, since being colonized, the Hoyeon had not had any battles... it was hard to forget some ingrained loathing. The very stories they were told as children painted the other as the villains in most cases. The Hoyeon were one people but they were not unified.

Tempest had always wanted to erase those lines between them. This was not a sentiment shared by all; some believed they were just too different. Temp thought that was foolishness spoken by people with narrow minds.

Do not less this pretext fool you. Maili was not such a narrow minded fool as her father had been. Old blood just ran deep, at times, and her and Temp had never gotten along even as children. They were radically different as people.

She sits before him as she grinds bitter roots into fine powder, a scowl on her face.

"You want us to Flame a statue for you?" Maili scoffs, still not looking at him. The powder in the bowl was already a fine dust minutes ago yet she still hits it with vigor.

"For a shrine." Temp says, again.

"For what? This isn't.... " She stops in her grinding suddenly, deep blue eyes shooting up to look at him with pure disgust.

"Is this some stupid... Team Rocket plot? Are you trying to use us, Norman?" She spits his name, his legal one. Usually this would have his blood boiling. So many people had always made fun of him growing up for not having a 'traditional' name. For only being a 'half blood'. Alvilda, his mother, had been a pirate from Kalos. She was no Hoyeon in blood.

Now, he just stares at Maili with broken and blank stare.

"This has nothing to do with them. This is for me."

She meets his eyes again and they both stare. After a few moments, she looks away and scoffs.

"You really fucked things up for us, you know? For us and for Lauaki's bunch, too. I bet your dad has even had trouble with the fishing. We finally get one famous Hoyeon and then you fuck us by siding with Rocket. Now everyone thinks we're all turncoats."

"You know how I feel about our colonizers, Maili." But that wasn't here or there.

"So you married one? That run in your blood or something?" She smiles, sweet as acid, and glances back up at him. Maili could be a cruel person.

But Temp understands. She was just protecting her people. Temp had made them suffer with his actions.

He felt bad for them. For all of the Children of Hoyeon. Yet Temp did not regret his actions.

He takes a deep breaths in his mouth, holds it, releases it through his nose.

"Lauaki already said he would carve it. It's made from saltwood. I just need you to flame it so we can make a proper shrine. A public one."

She sucks in a breath, no doubt ready to spit more vitriol.

"To the God of a Memory. So we never forget again."

"Forget what?"

"Who we are." Temp rubs his temples. His head is throbbing with the effort not to sink even lower into his depression, the wounds that Maili opened still bleeding even if he hadn't reacted. "I don't want to forget that I loved her. I don't want to forget I was her father."

He grits his teeth and screws his eyes shut. After days and days of the tap being sealed up tight. It breaks in front of a woman who he didn't even like. Who didn't even like him.

A shuddering sob leaves him as the faucet breaks. His chest heaves, snot starting to drip down his nose and thick, salty tears of misery dropping down his face. Temp doesn't just cry, he bawls, loud aching cries that hurt his chest. Red flushes his face and he does his best to cover his hands with them, hunch forward as if his own weight is too much for him.

"My daughter's gone and I don't want to forget her! I can't! I can- I can already feel it... what she looked like, w-who she was... my Dottie!"

It wasn't real a traitorous thought ripples in his mind. You're making a scene for less than nothing.

But if it wasn't real, why did it hurt so badly?

Did it not matter that it was real to him?

The meeting is cut short.

Temp sniffles and cries with a blanket draped over his shoulders and warm tea crammed into his hands. The cup scalds and soothes. Temp cries himself out in her home on her couch and with her stilted and unsure comfort.

Because they were both still Hoyeon at the end of the day. And you did not leave family in misery even if you didn't like them.

THE SHRINE TO MEMORIES LOST

The place where the Great Tree used to stand is now mostly barren.

Life would always persevere. Almost a year after the Darkest Day and things still tried to bloom. One charred and battle worn land had shoots of hardy grass rooting in the edges.

Only one things stands here. A monument to the suffering that day. Of all the lives lost.

Temp does not work to move this. Instead, they build around it. They incorporate it into the landscape of the scene they want to create.

A park.

Native flowers and trees are transplanted into the dirt. Sturdy benches placed in nice spots under hanging bought of vines and tree. It will still need time to grow into itself, yet they slowly, over days, turn this place of mourning and loss and emptiness into something lovely.

Temp watches, standing next to Lauaki and Maili, as the statue of Calyrex they had all three contributed to is pulled to standing. There is a moment when it sinks into the foundations made, the rabbit rider holding reins as it rides it's chilling steed.

It is imperfect. Temp only made this based on false memories of twenty years past. Yet the piece still evokes the same feelings as he had briefly seen it before it was blown up.

Temp sniffles and rubs a tear that had threatened to fall from under his eye.

"Thank you both."

His voice is quiet and sheepish.

Lauaki claps him on the back and Maili hums. Otherwise, no words are shared.

A feeding trough is placed at the base, just like before, a place for offerings of all kinds. For anyone who wants to give grace to the new patron deity they had made.

Maybe it was not Hoenn born, not like the other shrines built in the past. But it was now honorary Hoennite all the same.

When the statue is anchored, Temp goes to finish fastening a shiny metal plaque to the base.

CALYREX

PATRON OF THE HARVEST

MAY YOU GIVE OFFERINGS TO NEVER FORGET THE SEEDS OF THE PAST