[attr="class","textbox"]Isaac stepped forth.[break][break]
Into the Petalburg Woods, more lush and vibrant than they'd ever been. Cherry blossoms fluttered through the air, carried along the lingering wisps of a cool breeze. He didn't chase it anymore. He no longer needed to. Hoenn was free - he was free - and now they could properly heal. Nevertheless, he held a hand up, savoring the feeling of it running through his fingers. He reached for the trees, wrapping his fingers around a thick handful of[break][break]
mochi and viscera, a feeling he would never grow accustomed to no matter how many days passed. It felt like no matter how hard he and the others tried to clean the place, it only grew filthier and filthier. Were the Megalopians making more of a mess just to spite them? Or was it because of their enslaved beast, who Isaac could only pity even as her vicious kicks cracked his already-weary[break][break]
eyes wide open as the lights of the city seared his eyes. Every day, the same dream. From the hushed whispers he heard in the penitentiary, he knew he wasn't alone. By day, they toiled and suffered. By night, their hearts and minds connected in a world beyond their own. He watched the others from afar, beholding them without masks for the first time in ages. He yearned to reach out to him, the urge swelling in his chest to-[break][break]
laugh. Laugh and laugh and laugh some more, until tears squeezed out of his eyes from the strain. No matter how much he resented it, the toxic chain forced his hand. Fuck that.
howard slayte didn't deserve this. Yet whether it slithered up from his gullet as he tried to keep it down, or he forced it from his lungs in harsh, sarcastic barks, there was nothing Isaac could do to stop[break][break]
the lunch rush. The same team that had once mended the Petalburg Woods now ensured he always had the freshest ingredients to go with the local tastings. The arrangements inspired by
Elisabeth Fiorelli were as much a feast for the eyes as the recipes he learned from
Zev Harcourt were for the belly. It was always the Isaac way; learn from the best, put his own spin on things, and pay tribute to the two he could never reconcile with. Yet he couldn't stick around and watch. Down in the basement, he was needed for a heart to heart with[break][break]
his dear patron, trapped in stasis with all the other legends. Isaac could swear he saw Suicune's entire body shudder. Such a free spirit didn't do well in captivity. Were they frightened? Were they enraged? Or were they trying, even now, to escape?
"Like hell am I gonna leave you here," Isaac snarled, taking a few steps back on shaky legs. Then, throwing all caution to the winds, he lunged at Suicune's containment. In one step, two step, then three, the winds took him for the first time in ages. Yet try as he might to probe for an opening in Suicune's prison, it was airtight. Defeated, he fell to the ground. At least if his powers worked, he could mend his leg with[break][break]
scraps of tattered cloth, torn from the hem of his robes with a sharpened tera shard. He couldn't keep pulling that trick forever. Already, his robes were starting to show a bit of midriff. But with the condition his leg was in, he couldn't just let old, soiled cloth plug the wound forever. It didn't help that the accursed monkey always found a way to "accidentally" nudge his broken[break][break]
promise. He'd told
Eris Halla he wouldn't try anything reckless. He knew if things got worse for him, she wouldn't be able to handle it. But that was in the waking world, where he was as powerless as the day he was born. In this dream, he felt no hunger or thirst. The pain in his leg faded to the back of his mind. His power was back. He had to see what he could do with it. He took a deep breath, gazed off to the horizon, and ran[break][break]
for the Hoenn council. The war ending was just the first in a journey of a thousand steps. Fractures and hatred still ran deep, and for understandable reason. The wounds Rocket left, to those they hated and those they claimed to represent alike, were not the type time alone could heal. Yet if he could just find the right words to mend the gap, to give a region deemed forsaken by the gods themselves a second chance, maybe they could help each other heal.
freya morningstar certain thought he could, but to Isaac it wasn't about winning. It was about sending[break][break]
a message. This is what they would live for, torturous labor in the bowels of a house of horrors.[break][break]
a message. This is what they would die for, a luxurious city beyond the stars whose roads would be paved in their blood.[break][break]
a message. This is what they lost for crossing the Megalopians, fleeting hopes they could snatch away with but the snap of a finger.[break][break]
What else could Isaac do but lay his head down and[break][break]
sleep in the arms of his beloved
Genevieve Cromwell, barely finding the energy to crawl into bed after putting the finishing touches on his lates kids' book. After everything he'd accomplished, everything he'd tried, everything he'd endured, it was these little windows into the outside world he sought to prioritize. He was never the type to be in charge, but touching peoples' hearts? That he could do.[break][break]
sleep scrunched up against the back of his cot, humming quietly for Eris as he eased her to sleep. She'd stopped fighting their arrangement once she realized it at least kept the nightmares away. It was the only thing Isaac was good for anymore, so it was a duty he rose to with pride. Broken, imprisoned, and depowered, at least he could always make his little sister smile.[break][break]
fall to one knee, having exhausted himself exploring every nook and cranny of the dream world. He woke up exhausted each morning, as if he was running himself ragged in his waking hours, but he couldn't bring himself to stop. It felt like there had to be something, anything he could do. Yet as he failed night after night, he found himself losing the strength to even try. His eyelids grew heavy. His body started to waver. At any moment, Isaac knew sleep would take him, as it had in every facet of this nightmare triad. All he had to do was let[break][break]
a familiar weight settle into his arms. Her hair was different, but everything else about her was exactly as he'd remembered. Was this a dream? Was this a fantasy? No. No matter which of the three worlds he wandered, he knew this was real.
"Fuck, I missed you so much . . ."[break][break]
For a while, they just sat there, being each other's rock. Even as Nomi spoke, she clung onto him for dear life, a favor Isaac returned without a second thought. It was as if he feared she'd disappear the second he let go. It was just like old times; talking the night away on harebrained schemes and farfetched theories, being the sounding board on which she wrote the fabric of the universe.[break][break]
These were the moments that made the old days worth living.[break][break]
He had so much to say about the natures of dreams and reality, picked up from her eager ramblings and his lived-in experience. In any other time, he would have excitedly rambled alongside her, letting her laugh warmly as she corrected his misconceptions and perk up as his inexperience let her consider angles she'd missed. Yet this time, he knew it was her moment. He quieted himself and listened, only holding her that slight bit closer as she finished her plea.[break][break]
"I trust you."[break][break]
RtSLUX0a[break][break]
TEAL DEER;[break]
I get experimental![break]
Isaac puts his faith in Nomi's experiment.
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TAG — @ [break]
NOTES — notes go here
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