The Galarian
He/Him
27
May 9th
Rustboro City
Bisexual
Archaeologist
Rocket Admin
The future will tempt you, the present will indulge you, but the past will shackle you.
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howard slayte
When We Fall, We Fall Hard [M]
POSTED ON Feb 18, 2024 10:45:51 GMT
The helmet gave nothing away. The only thing it gave was a distorted reflection of Kazimir's face in its surface. It was a solemn mockery of everything that Kazimir stood for. The League had abandoned him, the world had forsaken him, Rocket had stolen his friend, and there was nothing left but a smear of shit on the tapestry that was Pokkenger's legacy.
What was there to fight for, anymore? Justice? Justice only mattered to those who held power. They were the ones who dictated justice, and that was something that Howard knew well from the histories. The League wrote the history book, but if Rocket won...
That book could be revised. Kazimir's failures could be washed away. The wise studied history, but the strong wrote it. Kazimir could change everything.
"The League is the better group to be on. They'll likely win this war." Howard shrugged, honest. It was one of his defining features in his position. Whenever he spoke, he spoke truly. He didn't revel in lies like his colleagues. A historian could misdirect and evade, but lie? No. "We're simply treading water, hoping for a miracle. If you all put your full weight on Sootopolis, Rocket would be crushed."
"But you won't. The casualties will mar this region for centuries after. That's the morality of the Pokémon League. My colleagues would kill every single citizen in that city if it would let us win. You will find no justice there. Only death."
If he knew about Baldur, his face didn't mention it. Rocket had many important members, after all. It was unfortunate that Solgaleo's Avatar had departed from the battlefield, but there was little to be done besides keep moving forward. That was all that mattered; that extra step forward.
The Three Days War, though. He understood that. He studied it. It'd be written into history's annals and remembered until the sun went out.
Then Shred was mentioned. If his helmet was off, Kazimir would've seen a flash of utter misery. As is, there was only the helmet.
"He's dying from my own strike. We have our best people on it, but his life is a candle in the wind. I regret it, but I don't." The helmet flashed. Howard frowned underneath, pleased to know that him chasing Shred hadn't been forgotten. Someone had noticed. Someone had cared. "I simply didn't want his dream to go out. That's all we're left with. A dream is all each of us can hold. This war will make us into pragmatic machines, but as soon as we let go of what makes us human..."
His fist clenched as he looked at the man sitting next to him. He didn't jump away.
"That is when we lose. As long as there's the option to choose, there is hope for you."
Kazimir Wynter
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