the crown prince
masculine
twenty-seven
may 20
hammerlocke, galar
heterosexual
archaeologist
aqua/ex-admin
born under a bad sign with a blue moon in my eyes
TAG WITH @oslo
Remiel Calcifet
downdraught [r]
POSTED ON Mar 6, 2021 1:30:37 GMT
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RESEARCH THREAD: ZEKROM
[attr=class,lyric1]
inevitable and impersonal
[attr=class,lyric2]
lightning that strikes
[attr=class,bulk] [break][break] The prince is forced to brace himself as a great upheaval of energy fills the chamber. As profoundly as he would have experienced them otherwise, adrenaline keeps him from feeling the pinpricks of pain across his exposed skin. But that doesn't keep the hair on his arms, and even his head, from standing on end as electricity crackles all around like a furious hydra.[break][break] Thankfully, Agnés' WISH bears fruit, and the great Yin almost immediately begins to calm as the last of its electricity fizzles out within the surrounding fulgurite. Remiel lowers his arms to gaze upon the scarred terrain for a moment in awe. Then, tentatively at first, steps out from behind the generator to stand before the black dragon.[break][break] The piercing stare of such a powerful entity-- of a legend incarnate-- is enough to quiver the heart of most men. Remiel proves to be no exception, but steels himself as he moves to stand before it. There is no falter in his step. And, before long, the disquiet inside of him is replaced with something else: a bold assurance in light of Philomera's twisted promises.[break][break] Zekrom's inquiry is given the moment of thought it deserves. Ideas of bending the entirety of the world to his will didn't fill his mind too often. Running a nation (or a large organization) well was already difficult enough to begin with, after all. But that wasn't to say he'd never thought about his ideal world in the past either.[break][break] Why that specific memory, why now of all times, Remiel doesn't know. There were several instances in his past where he'd thought about grand plans for the future in more depth. That glimpse of his childhood, however, provided no similarity to the man he was today. Or so he chose to believe.[break][break] [break][break] "My ideal world..." He finally utters. "Is one where everyone is given true freedom to try and make it their own, regardless of status, background, or birthright." He raises his palm to look at it, almost as if he's carrying an invisible tome. "Some say we cannot escape history... but I choose to believe we can." His hand grips itself into a fist, and he looks up at Zekrom with a fire in his eyes.[break][break] "I subscribe to the idea of global prosperity and harmony, but I am not foolish enough to believe obtaining it by force, position, or power is the key. If the legends are true, and you've paid witness to several of these attempts from the likes of kings and queens yourself," Some of them his own ancestors, reportedly. "Then I am certain you understand. There are no shortcuts to the realization of an ideal world, Great Yin."[break][break] He drops his hand, eyeing the electricity that continues to crackle and light the cavern blue. "Yet even the most well-meaning of faiths and morals succumb to this trap. To expect a singular ideal to dominate the world is unrealistic. Moderation and understanding is the key we must arduously strive for. But first we must have the strength to break the chains of those who would try and stifle this progress. Those would impose their will upon us."[break][break] The young royal shifts his attention back up at the great dragon: once an illustration in the old children's book his nanny would read to him, but now a living thing. When mythology became real, he could only begin to imagine the kind of effects that had on history as they knew it. But to be in the presence of this power filled him with a vigor unlike anything he'd ever experienced, and it brought a curious thought to mind:[break][break] Anybody can make history. Only a great force can write it. [break][break] Outstretching an open hand, the black-haired prince continues, flanked by his partners on both sides. "In the hands of those who believe they're doing more good than harm, we face a threat unlike anything ever seen before. Join me, Zekrom! We'll fight our collective freedom; together."[break][break] If each page of history was worth a pound of logic, then Remiel Calcifet was the culmination of it all: the heir to a throne he abandoned, and the one royal determined to be Zekrom's final avatar in a race between knowledge and catastrophe.[break]
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"ZEKROM IS THE CAUSE OF THE STORM?" she clues in quick. the black dragon's name rings hollow still, for she does not desire to understand it past its use for her. "YOU ARE MISTAKEN."[break][break][break]
her naganadel swings into the portal as well with its purple smile remaining in the air as its image is sucked within. the wormhole closes— and as scenes of ultra space disappear behind the addled dragon, a terrible crunch and clamor allows no respite.
ELECTRICITY CHARS ALL THE ELEMENTS. hair rises, stone shatters like glass, the air is prickled with energy. the landshark charges into the zekrom's florentine armors with surprising strength. buying enough time for gardevoir's WISH to descend upon the dragon.
AS REMIEL CONTINUES TO ELABORATE, the turbine tail begins to illuminate with brilliant blues. the light flickers and dances across the fulgurite of the cavern. when the galarian concludes— the zekrom rises to its full height.
PATISSERIE HM RP
