a short lived victory is still just that, victory. derek finds time to rest on his laurels, and though catastrophe is easy to come by in this place... motostoke still stands.

THE FIRST MONTH

yet one conflict after another puts manpower and resources at stake. derek, suffering from idle hands and idle mind, learns to melt down and work metals into a useful shape. over time, and time was something they had plenty of, he would become something of a master at his forge in motostoke.

THE FIRST YEAR

SPOILER: Click to show

there isn't much to do with time off in this place. training his pokemon is moot, as the only test of strength they need is the next incursion of pokemon rising from the sludge. it's penelope who occupies derek when he isn't working hard at his forge. they reminisce. speak the inner truths of what this place has robbed them of. their lives. but they also spoke of what it has promised...

none of it compares to when they kissed. derek doesn't know how or why it came to pass. if PENELOPE LIVY feared she might lose a friend to this place. perhaps it was just a token, or some kind of gesture. but there is far worse for him to worry about than what that kiss meant.

IT'S BEEN TEN YEARS

SPOILER: Click to show

necrozma. this fabled black knight has been fended off before. and with great casualties, once more. all the cities rejoice, placing crown on king and queen. but no crown for him. nor queen. instead it is ollie morales who is given penelope's hand, and his honor is to be the best man. there are many feelings to process. so much time spent in this place. derek feigned joy and stood there with a smile like he always did. but he is not happy in this place. it's hard to be, even if jonesy was still around to raise his spirits.

much time is spent gathering resources. ventures into the power spot and elsewhere. all the while derek is unsure of what to make of himself. he stook his claim in every gamble with nothing to show for it but a steelix that could no longer fight. poisoned, even though it should have been immune. it's almost insulting. motostoke may not have given derek a crown, but now he could make one for himself. fixed upon his creation was a pronged pommel, resembling that of a crown. only his would be worn at the hip, a symbol made in secret.

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tl;dr
derek struggles coming to terms with this new life.
derek spends time with penny, the brief moment they shared giving him hope where none should exist.
occupies himself by learning how to smith weapons/etc with this story's potent minerals, and by gathering some black metal, dynite ore(?), etc from the power spot and elsewhere.
forges a weapon capable of casting water pledge.
he is the best man at penny and ollie's wedding. fought back any urge to object, mostly unwilling to ruin jonesy's day as the ringbearer. also it's a bad look for someone chosen to be the best man...
bottles up any of the inner envy/jealousy & hate he feels, but they are there.

GOOD GALAR: RUSTED SWORD

☉

[attr="class","header"]The Huntress Is On The Prowl...

[attr="class","setting"]

Adelaide could watch as her luxray took a serious blow from the Galarian zapdos. She knew the feline was serious as she returned her to her pokeball. However that was she had gotten from drawing the ire of a legendary pokemon. [break][break] It didn't take too long eventually for the fight to stop. The glory bestow onto those of this fake Galar didn't really matter to her as would to most. She know free to rest for a moment in time and enjoy the peace.[break][break]

Adelaide would grow in the years to come taking up her knightly duties. Something she didn't really get the change in her old life. Before she hated and even despite however now she thought of it as the best to serve Galar. As the year went by she almost grew up become an radiant woman. Able to put a smile onto just about anymore face. There were times she offer marriage however she could be taken away from her duty. Her heart would dream of true love that could never seem to find. However she showered her friends with love only a good friend could.  

[break][break] Adelaide was a close penpal to mikael rosenberg . She knew he was going through dark times. If she travel over there and aid in suffering she would but with the poison and politics. There was nothing else she could about. The woman almost took time to tone her skills for the day they were needed and that make when necrozma  attack. Her heart for lives lost however in the end the legendary they were able find a away and make weapons to fight for the fight. Her owe weapons was bow with the able to normal arrow into Misty Explosion. She pray she will never to use it but before she doesn't shake the feeling of dark time ahead. [break][break] 

[attr="class","oocnotes"] + TR! DL![break]Adelaide lived her life rather content after the battle. She became knight keep in touch with a few good friends. She would later gain a weapon then being a bow with the power of making arrow into misty explosion.[break]B1dQd_34

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[attr="class","bisc"]The Charizard collapses with a roar. Soon enough, the army disappears with it. The air around him is stifling in its silence. Only the pounding of his heart and sharp blade of his shame are palpable. Then, all at once, the sensations rush back in. His sister is burrowing into his arm and thanking him. She says something about he gave her courage.

What a bunch of bologna.

He’d be on the other side of the wall if she hadn’t been up there. There was nothing to be proud of. He didn’t do anything important. No. Biscotti Kingsley was put to the chest and he failed. He didn’t draw Excalibur from the stone; he’d cut his hand on its blade. But he couldn’t find the words to correct his sister. None of them felt right. Telling her Santa was fake was one thing, but shattering a straw totem she seemed to desperately need? “Yeah. Heroic. That’s me.”

Then, someone’s applauding. A few people bow. Biscotti’s cheeks color in response. He even goes as far as to bow back, drawing bug-eyed stares from a few of the peasants. Old ladies press their lips to his cheek and mutter thanks in rushed antiquated English. It all happens so fast. And, when he collapses into his hastily constructed cot, it’s with the weight of questions and an undeserved mantle.

The moon is full.

One Month Later

Biscotti has the ruins of the bakery in decent shape. Or, to be accurate, they have it in decent shape. The townspeople’s willingness to help is enough to keep up the rain. Pretty soon, the smell of fresh baked goods fills the street. As time goes on, the fanciful cupcakes become serviceable bread. No point in drawing silly things in frosting when the world was ending.

When done working for the day, he paces the streets, amazed by how small Motostoke suddenly feels. Surprisingly, Elise Calcifet is a regular visitor to the bakery. As time passed, his nerves around her began to calm.

She becomes just another Kingsley. A friend he feels he can rely on.

He helps out where he can. Pushing an old woman in a wheelchair there. Using his eldest sister’s love of soap making and camp showers to stop them from smelling like spoiled onions. But, as the other “royals” find their groove, he still feels out of place. Like a Vullaby stuck in a Taillow’s nest.

When the full moon appears again, it suddenly feels so real. Tears sprang unbidden to his eyes as he shatters. He wonders what his family is thinking about at home. How long it will be before he sees them again?

A Year Later

His ability to walk off injuries earns him the title Revenant King. But, no matter how many times war comes, it still churns his stomach.

Sometimes, he takes breaks to do silly things. Play kick the can with kids in the alley. Put on a stupid shadow puppet show in the square—something he definitely didn’t have the dexterity for. With all these competent people around, he doesn’t see a reason to go all out. Until Elise Calcifet speaks up.

“Biscotti, they look up to you. You need to take this seriously.” The princess’s words cut him to the bone. She was right. That stuff didn’t matter.

He tried so hard to be the king he saw around him. To imitate the prim and proper bearing of the other royals. A dour figure who had no time to play. He regularly attended weapons training with @thomas. His lanky build quickly shifted to something muscular. Dark armor was crafted for him, making him feel like a child in dress-up. And the only time he enjoyed it was when the helmet fell too low, blinding him. It made the kids laugh.

Tears fell from his shadowed helm on the eve of his first battle. Beneath him, an Incineroar was twisted in pain. Poison had eaten through its skin, leaving its jaw exposed in a nasty, macabre grin. Next to that, a little shoe jutted out. The owner was unrecognizable, its body marred by fiery scratches.

Whispers rippled through the crowd. He was studded with wounds. A shard of rock jutted through his shoulder. They called him a zombie. Some shrunk back. But, again and again, he stood back up. The townspeople asked what they should do. Turned to him for advice.

The helm dropped to the ground. He wasn’t cut out to be king. But—when he tripped over his cape—laughter erupted. As he lifted his eyes, he found dour, worried faces peering back at him. Biscotti wiped his tears away and smiled. Even as his insides wept, he forced himself to grin. He stuck his tongue out.

A child laughs. For the first time in months, his heart stirs. Suddenly, he isn’t some distant, frightening figure. He’s just another dork willing to lend a hand. This is what he was here for.

Every court needed a jester.

Five Years Later

What scraps weren’t repurposed in weapons or defenses became Biscotti’s domain. A thousand scars dot his hands from a thousand lessons learned. From a carpentry novice, he becomes competent at turning scraps into something useful. First, there’s a set of swings built from deceased Pokemon hides and twisted pieces of metal.


A slide and small series of ramps follow. He also manages to coax some creativity out of the townspeople. Once a month, they gather in the square for a talent show. It’s at one of these that he meets the Galarian peasant girl with spring-green eyes and curly hair. She always hides her laugh behind her hands, as if embarrassed the world would see.


When he finishes the golf course, she’s holding his hand. Biscotti wondered how long it’d take for him to ask her name. Gods, he sucked at those.

Gone is the Revenant King. Now, he's the King of Smiles.

Ten Years Later

Necrozma came back. He creamed them. The city was left in ruins. And, just like that, his wife is gone. There'd be no more bleating laughs to warm up the dinner table.

He'd never get to anticipate the child he never knew was coming.

Even clowns  cried sometimes.

STELLA: This spear was crafted in memory of Biscotti’s wife. It shares her name. As her death was the result of his inaccuracy—a centimeter awry in a vital battle, it is imbued with a move that cannot miss: Swift. When lifted, this spear summons a swirl of sharp bits of light that always hit the enemy where intended (unless they’re immune). What these attacks lack in power, they make up in spread and interruption. The spear has a star-shaped cross guard and a garishly painted hilt.

But, for them, he smiled.

NOTES

• Gets put through the combat wringer by @thomas
• Becomes close friends with Elise
• Tries to be a serious, no-nonsense king for a while, becoming the 'Revenant King'. Finds it takes a toll on his soul.
• Looks like a patchwork quilt of injuries by the time they're done
  
• Marries a silly young girl who hates laughing because she bleats like a sheep
  
• Starts focusing on entertainment, organizing theater shows and building things like ice rinks and miniature golf courses
  
• His wife dies in the Necrozma attack. His heart breaks.
• The townspeople craft him Stella, a spear embued with Swift.

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