rayquaza makes themselves a beacon of hope to the people of sootopolis now. they linger at the edge of freya's conscious, a steadfast reminder of their tangled bond, and beneath the slightly warm indifference is an honest concern as their avatar skulks low in a copse of trees so far out of reach.

dragons are lords and ladies of the sky, and to feel their chosen grounded goes against their nature, but freya is a hunter. she does not fear the brash that would clash at their defenses with fire and iron, as her own would devour them whole. 

she fears the insidious whispers that can slip between the cracks, the blight that can worm its way through armor and into skin. 

there is a bow at her side, wickedly curved and gleaming silver, but she keeps it tucked low, fingers brushing the ground, sometimes the azure scales of the companion that slithers beside her. aeris follows the stinging scent of fae; when they're near enough that they can see the glowing green gills of the mushroom, freya half-rises from her crouch. 

she nocks an arrow and hisses softly. her dragonair slinks off to the side, waiting, and freya warns while maintaining her draw, "this is an active warzone. leave."

or give me a reason to shoot.

Absinthe Blackwood

☉

tension thickens and the skin on the back of her neck crawls. her palate goes dry, an instinctual tell that has her moving as their soon-to-be aggressor lifts her hands. the plex arrowhead does not flick towards the mushroom - nothing she carries is strong enough to take on a pokemon herself. 

"i gave you fair warning."

the bowstring snaps and the arrow flies towards the rocket's knee.

a gauntleted hand rakes through the air, beckoning winds with knitted brows. but her sygna suit flickers, cape snapping, as two energies vie for command. she swears under her breath, tucking her knee to roll out of the way of the shiinotic's attack, and aeris makes up for her mistake.

draconic flame spurts from the serpent's maw as it intervenes, spores burning up in embers. but azure scales are smothered by the oppressive wave. her tail lashes, head bobbing as she fights drowsiness, but when she collapses in coiled sleep, freya's sygna suit loses its color.

energy hums through her and her patron's consciousness slams into her with full force, ferocious and furious. freya's sclera darkens and golds burn softly against the oil-slick black. 

this time, when she forces out a hand, a concussive blast follows. it furrows through the earth, tears bark from trees, and races greedily towards their foes. 

Absinthe Blackwood
aeris eepy honkshooshoo

☉

this, she realizes as she runs her tongue along her sharpened teeth, marks the first time. there is a baying in her ears as the intrinsic connection to her patron unfurls in full - the thrumming of dragons sound battle cries from centuries past, and it is their fury that guides the gales snapping feverishly around her. 

blood stains the earth, copper on her palate, and her greaves leave imprints in the spill as she stalks towards her prey. 

the ascendant's serpentine gaze follows glowing gills, but the mushroom is a creature borne of this soil. it is at home amidst the roots and the rotting undergrowth, and soon she loses sight of it in the darkened woodland.

her right arm jerks as she stalks forward and that wicked bow folds in on itself, clicking together to form a hilt and blade. head cocking, she ignores the creatures on her belt - bulky, ferocious creatures that could raze this grotto in an instant. her own curiosity, the thick swill of adrenaline in her veins, her pride pushes her forward, searching with howling invisible hands in the dark. 

but their own find her first. her bracing does not prepare her for the tendrils that slither out from nowhere, wrapping around arms and leg, coiling to stroke her neck. pain burrows through her and she snarls as energy needles through her dormant defenses, grasping at the slippery ribbons of energy that burn brightly within her. 

tryptophan touches divinity by paring human flesh.

rayquaza's presence is a forceful and all-at-once explosive supernova of brilliance, burning their way through her body, and even as she falls to her knees, her smile turns wicked.

a hiss of her own whistles past lips parted in pain. tryptophan need not worry about the unassuming dragon that has shed its skin, but absinthe does. awoken from its slumber, blue and purple flame spills from the dragonair's maw, intent on baptizing their bleeding threat in fire.

Absinthe Blackwood
aeris sheds her skin and wakes up
freya is strength sapped and kneeling/vulnerable
aeris attacks absinthe

☉

freya is no stranger to suffering. wo-chien has cut through her memories with a rusted knife, gorged on her miseries until she relived every aching moment of her unraveling. she has contained multitudes, decades of pain and heartache - but of love, too. and joy. 

and while she is stolen from once again, her patron is there to share her burden. the sounds of the forest dwindle and soon all she can hear is the rushing of air, slipstream against scales, and she is so, so far away from the hooked barbs sunk into her once-fractured psyche. 

when the strings holding her aloft are withdrawn, she slumps to one side, breathing hard, and sound crashes back around her. bleary eyes make out a cloud of green siphoning from her writhing dragonair and then, woozy, she turns her head towards the lumbering sounds of someone struggling through the undergrowth. 

blood stains her lips from where she'd bitten herself. 

"your master needs you, little one. a bigger dragon is coming."

bolts of electricity spark from the thrashing dragonair's tail, skittering over churned earth. warning blows to the mushroom, nothing more. freya sheathes her sword and folds herself over aeris' back. her wings outstretch and she spirals upward, into the trees, and away from the haunting little sprite. freya looks backs only once to watch the light fade behind her.




they made a promise when they replaced their chosen, though she had not known it then, though she may not even know it now. they have lost too much already - almost the faith of one, and that sorrow they carry with them still. they shall not lose it of another. 

so it is with reckless abandon that they streak through the sky, carrying with them the unrelenting promise that they will not abandon their avatar. 

they feel their chosen, all of her aches and pains, and as the treetops shudder beneath their passing bulk, they spy the perpetrator. 

treetops shudder beneath their passing bulk and the winds, relentless and savage, carry to them the scent of blood. their eyes narrow, parsing the lingering silver of an arrow, and that is all the confirmation they need to begin their chant. 

the light of the sun glows deep in their belly, spilling forth with a boom that shakes the earth. meteors spray in all directions, and every contact with made the earth is tinged with draconic purple flames. there is a poison out there that defiled their draconid, protector of their people, and peace is not made by the merciful. 

Absinthe Blackwood

☉

feeling returns to cold fingers and freya rights herself on aeris' back. green scales ripple beneath them as the world comes back into focus, strength returning as her serpent's energy pours into the cavities made by tryptophan. 

legs swing and practiced movements put her in freefall. wind gathers under her and here is where she is clumsy, hitting rough green scales by heel and toe, tripping forward to a run. her hands wrap around the long curve of rayquaza's first spine. 

you don't have to do this, she wants to say, but it has been so very long since she has felt so untouchable. here, buffeted by the wind, reminded of what it means to be alive, she can almost forget the rumbling siren call of the deep sea leviathan.

rayquaza hums their own song and it resonates in freya's throat. fingers unlatch and careful crouched steps take her to the crest of the dragon's head, where down, down, down she sees the shape of the woman who tried to pull her apart. 

grass smolders, wisping quickly into smoke, and half a dozen craters encircle the rocket and their fallen companion. 

freya watches piteously, expecting the wounded woman to scrabble onto her bat and make for safety, but instead she is defiant. the hyper beam is a brilliant stream of light that blasts rayquaza through their chest, skittering over scales, singeing freya's skin. 

violent jaws snap at the air and freya reaches out a hand, grasping at a power she still does not understand. skeins of lightning ripple through gray clouds. a sharp gasp leaves her, fist clenching, and as she yanks downward, the sky splits open and rain spills in a sudden, relentless downpour. 

lightning strikes the earth.

run, she wills.

a fog thickens on the ground. 

before they take what is owed.

blood must have blood; rayquaza bares their teeth. 

Absinthe Blackwood

☉

she thinks, not for the first time, i should feel cold. the rain slithers down her sygna suit, wetting her under armour, and thin prickles of cold should be seeping into her skin. but rayquaza's warmth hums through her and invincible as she is within the storm, she cannot find it in herself to care. 

droplets are flung with every blink. her serpent's muscles coil and she knows they mean to give chase, but she kneels upon their crown, brushing her knuckles against their brow. the storm moves outward and a fog billows over the trees, sinking slowly to the earth. 

blanketing the aftermath of their skirmish made up of broken brambles and felled trees. 

"let them run," she whispers, "and let them spread fear."

Absinthe Blackwood

☉