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a slate gray sky hangs heavy over slateport, the air gravid with the musk of coming rain. minerva valentine, young in flesh but ancient in spirit, drifts specter-like through the crowd. her lace-gloved fingers idly brush the cold silver of her many rings as she moves, an unconscious tic, a warding gesture against the buffeting sea of humanity.[break][break]

what brings her here, to this clamorous place? an unspoken yearning, a gravity in her bones that propels her ever onward. perhaps it is her ceaseless search for answers, for arcane truths hidden just beneath the skin of the world. or perhaps it is simply wanderlust, the inexorable pull of the open road.[break][break]

whatever the reason, she finds herself now drawn to the jostling knot of people gathered ahead. they are a motley assortment - young, old, rich, poor, human and pokémon. a microcosm of hoenn, all straining to see whatever lies at the center. minerva's dark eyes narrow behind the smudged panes of her non-prescription glasses.[break][break]

"what's going on here?" she murmurs, though whether to herself or to some unseen other is unclear. she shifts and weaves through the throng with serpentine grace, determined to sate her curiosity. wherever there is a gathering, there is something to be learned, some morsel of truth to be gleaned. and minerva valentine will have it, though she walk through the valley of the crowd to get it.

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