[attr="class","postbody"]


cautious as ever. [break][break]

with a horrible temper to boot. she'll admit that working with him isn't a pleasant experience, but he gets the job done ( and the other one she works with has too much of a moral compass; killing a woman to silence her would be something he wouldn't agree with, she imagines ). "i thought it was a given when you commented on the file." blue eyes narrow, now she's tired. [break][break]

should have known better than to try and make small talk. [break][break]

and this time, she'll return a slight glare as she opens up the case to quickly (still neatly) stack the wads of cash on the table. by now, she's aware of this policy - and has no complaints about it. "satisfied?" she asks, her voice only a tinge more dead. [break][break]

then she closes the case, emptied, now. [break][break]

"... y'know," she starts, softer now, with an empty gaze beneath the bill of her cap as she lifts herself from the seat. "sometimes i wonder if you have any hard limits." most hitmen do, after all. [break][break]

but of course, it isn't her place to be asking more than she should be. [break][break]

so she'll take the case, wear a smile on her lips and wave off and make her way back to the door, where men are standing guard - whether to make sure no one gets in, or to make sure that she doesn't do any funny business on her way out.

[break][break]

[attr="class","accent"]
[attr="class","fas fa-bookmark"]

[attr="class","lyrics"]
@ Cain Toman

[attr="class","milkycredits"] [attr="class","fas fa-cookie-bite"]

[attr="class","pkmnbar"][break]

[attr="class","postbody"]

she works, and works, but the work is never done. [break][break]

the help of many is what keeps this collapsing city afloat, but as the years pass with a blur, she finds it harder to focus herself. yes, perhaps she's starting to lose herself in this sea of liquid time. she has to be going crazy, to begin seeing the children of this far faded town as children of her own ( they are nothing but the distant souls of the dead; simulacrums of a clinging memory ). [break][break]

it feels like she's betrayed something. [break][break]

so she works until they are self-sufficient, and works until her death. she'll do just that in this new, old familiar world, and she'll do the same once she returns whence she came from ( but will she return the same woman? will her children look at her, and think of her all the same? nothing scares her more than her own children eyeing her, only to ask where their sweet mother has gone ). [break][break]

since when has she been sweet? [break][break]

many others have focused on the prophecy, and many others focused on battle. though her bones have grown old and her skin weary, looking in the mirror is what reminds her of the passage of this joke of time. [break][break]

she despises these children, who replace her own, but as a mother she can't turn a blind eye ( not when she's been the child with nothing ). it can't be helped when she takes a child in, under her wing, teaching them finance like she would her own. it can't be helped when the child brings another in, then another, and another, and another again. it can't be helped when she finds herself surrounded by those eager to learn to wield weapons, and wield books. [break][break]

so she brings them to an orphanage built up by Cain Toman, who seems.. much more eager and receptive to helping. maybe it's old age that's made them wiser, or maybe it's the desire to help foster the next generation. who knows?[break][break]

"thank you for your help." she smiles, weary and fatigued from both work and age. the children will eat well, and train well, she's sure. though the extent of her responsibility to them is providing, she found herself visiting one day, then the next, then the next, until it's become a near daily occurrence. [break][break]

she forgotten how much she's loved the laughter of children. [break][break]

more time passes. [break][break]

---

[break][break]

and a wrinkled, tired woman has worked her flames and embers, but the frigid sheet of frost that layers her heart is no more. she gazes out at the window, at the rays of sun that seep through the glass. the orphanage has grown, and many rejoice in the retreating poison. the children who once mewled helplessly have grown capable, and some even checking in on her. [break][break]

a knock comes at her door, and she moves across old planks to open it. [break][break]

"sheba!" a woman calls out, smile bright on her face with a woven basket on her elbow. [break][break]

she immediately leans over to give the elder a hug, to which she only smiles softly and leans against her shoulder in response. "ah, sigrid." the name leaves her lips, to the child she once found huddled, and shivering. [break][break]

"we were able to grow some apples! i came here to give you some." [break][break]

she smiles so brightly, with locks of bronze messily falling over darker eyes. [break][break]

"ah, that's good. i was worried that they wouldn't be able to grow in these conditions.." winter was always harsh, especially on vegetation. the only reason they can sustain the growth is due to pokemon, and the use of modern knowledge. [break][break]

the girl grins, holding the shaped fruit of red to shove into her grasp. "take it." [break][break]

"it's alright, sigrid, i've eaten ple--"[break][break]

"noooope!~"[break][break]

a giggle comes from the woman at the door, her smile still bright, like the rays of sunlight on chilled winter skin. [break][break]

"you've been working hard to make sure we ration for the winter" [break][break]

she starts, the peasant beginning to hold the basket out to the aged woman. [break][break]

"so this is the least we could do." [break][break]

it was sickeningly sweet, this young woman. she's full of vigor, and life, and hope for a better tomorrow - a far cry from sheba, but it tells her that the sweet child was raised right, and raised with love, against all odds. it's this image that pricks at a tired heart, and the bottled up tears well as the woman reaches over in a panic. [break][break]

"whoa! are you okay?! why are you crying?!" she starts, her thin arms reaching out to hold slightly chilled skin, as though to catch something so fragile and dainty. [break][break]

"it's nothing." [break][break]

"did someone make you cry?"[break][break]

"no, sigrid, no one--"[break][break]

"i'll find them and kick some sense into them!" [break][break]

"sigrid--" [break][break]

age has made her wiser, but hasn't made her any stronger. so instead, she reaches to take a young lady in her arms and into a warm embrace. "i'm just happy." she says, the tears rolling down her cheeks and onto brown cloth.[break][break]

"so happy that you, and others lived." [break][break]

---

[break][break]

it approaches: the day of the prophecy. no amount of preparation will mentally steel her, and no amount of preparation will ready her for the children to fight. their lives will be lost, and some will be injured - but never has she wished for someone to live so vigilantly-- even if they're just memories. [break][break]

so one day she watches the window, though no longer longing for a home. what was silent yearning has been filled with the last words before the night takes her:[break][break]

"i hope i remember."


[break][break]

---

[break]

[break][break]

TL;DR:

• location: motostoke
  
• only sane bc she's a workaholic tbh
  
• delphox gets to rest, dorime delphox
  
• just wants to get back to her kids
  
• co-parents the orphanage with Cain Toman
  
• got herself a dynamax band in preparation for the final days(tm)
  
• weapon: teleporting scythe
  
• it's still Mei mei
  

[attr="class","accent"]
[attr="class","fas fa-bookmark"]

[attr="class","lyrics"]
@ @motostoke

[attr="class","milkycredits"] [attr="class","fas fa-cookie-bite"]

[attr="class","pkmnbar"]

[attr="class","postbody"]


she scoffs. [break][break]

not at him, mind - at herself. if he tells her everything personal immediately, he'd be no better than a sitting duck. of course he'd look at her with distrust, and with distaste - why wouldn't he when she looks at him the same way? perhaps she's finally gone senile, perhaps her sins are finally catching up to her, and they're weighing on her conscious (and she's just looking for something that can alleviate it, but she should know better). [break][break]

"you're right." she dares to still laugh. it's only under the guise of someone else she's this bold. [break][break]

and with the shake of her head, she'll dismiss her momentary lapse. "forget it" she starts, arms crossed as she leans her upper body against the rests of the chair. his words drip with venom that looms over her figure, while her gaze hardens with cold steel. "you'll find all her information in those binders. like you said, i have everything -" her fingers reach into the same bag, though now pulling out a larger suitcase to place on the table, away from the files " - from her daily life to her friends." sheba plays dirty, after all. [break][break]

"here's the payment." she sets the case down, carefully. [break][break]

"this should be enough for your work."

[break][break]

[attr="class","accent"]
[attr="class","fas fa-bookmark"]

[attr="class","lyrics"]
@ Cain Toman

[attr="class","milkycredits"] [attr="class","fas fa-cookie-bite"]

[attr="class","pkmnbar"][break]

[attr="class","postbody"]

it's over. [break][break]

she thinks when she gazes out at the barricades, eyes narrowed on the delphox who smells horrible from the poison - still, she'll figure out how she can wash the big one with some water, later. or, she can have her use some psychic to get it off. either way, the woman sighs softly, recalling the pokemon back once all of the fighting is over. "you did well, love." she pecks the top of the delphox's pokeball, who, she thinks, deserves a rest. [break][break]

they'll get home, she thinks. they'll get home soon. [break][break]

she was wrong. [break][break]

they did not get home soon. [break][break]

one year:[break][break]

at first, it was jarring. there's no word from the beast that brought them here, and things have become.. oddly quiet amidst the poison and the gunk. she, like many others, are jarred, and at some point, she's starting to think that surely, no beast will leave them here, right? there's no way they're stuck here, right? because if they are, she'll be leaving behind a legacy. she'll be leaving behind her life, and leaving behind her children - and now she's wondering if participating in this battle was really a good idea. [break][break]

"i have to get back" she thinks, but how? it looks like you're in an entirely different region, in an entirely different timeline, and she doesn't understand how she or others could ever get back. the longer she thinks about it, the more anxious she becomes, and she can't be the only one with those intrusive thoughts (the thoughts that remind her that her children are still alone, without their mother, without her home). [break][break]

but if she's stuck here, she would prefer not to wallow and sulk forever. though Callan Young and others have already gone ahead with organizing the populace for battle, one look around tells her that resources will certainly be a problem. there's farmland, yes, but she imagines that most of it would have been overrun with the poison, and the soil contaminated. there needed to be an effort for food (or else they'll all starve; they'll die of starvation before they'll die of war). [break][break]

so she uses this time to gather those around her, taking a look at food stocks, and rations, and the quality of food that they could eat. they would also need a fresh source of water, lest they go their days. [break][break]

ten years:[break][break]

ten years pass.[break][break]

the prophecy passes, with a black creature descending upon the land in a war. it's a fierce battle, but the people are ready, and the casualties aren't too severe. thankfully, with all the work and preparation, they don't have to go hungry either. she'll admit, perhaps she was a bit too strict with the food rations during the war, but it can't be helped when the majority of the working have become the injured, and the majority of the skilled were the majority of the fighters. they had to be frugal, for the sake of their now growing population (because children will always run the streets, regarding the time; they remind her of her own). [break][break]

those who have come to the past have also found new lives to lead, for better or for worse. sheba, for one, isn't one to hold onto the past for too long - not one to dwell. but if there's anything she thinks about, it's the children she left-- hopefully they've grown to be wonderful. maybe they haven't grown a bit, and the flow of time here was different (she hopes so). [break][break]

during the war, she's crafted herself a weapon: a scythe with the ability to teleport her. [break][break]

it was tricky to use, at first - which is why she uses the years after obtaining it to learn how to properly wield the weapon. sheba's never been much of a fighter, after all; but the events here taught her that she needs to. plus, it's certainly useful for hunting; something she initially had Cain Toman do, before she decides she's tired of sitting on her throne of capital.

[break][break]

---

[break]

[break][break]

TL;DR:

• location: motostoke
  
• one year: angry/worried about her kids
  
• one year: takes responsibility for food and resource rationing
  
• one year: researching food sources, farm lands, and expandable space
  
• ten years: business woman hours(tm), delegates work for peasants and manages resource circulation
  
• weapon: teleporting scythe
  
• ten years face: Mei mei
  

[attr="class","accent"]
[attr="class","fas fa-bookmark"]

[attr="class","lyrics"]
@ @motostoke

[attr="class","milkycredits"] [attr="class","fas fa-cookie-bite"]

[attr="class","pkmnbar"]

[attr="class","postbody"]

it's safe. [break][break]

for now. she only gives a passing smile to Callan Young at his thanks, before turning her attention back to the poison hands that.. frankly, seem like they've been ripped out of a horror movie. "of course." he doesn't need to ask.[break][break]

there's no time to rest when the sound of a bell chimes in the distance, and the sounds of screams that follow suit. there's.. a monster, heading through the barricades, breaking them effortlessly - and if she's honest, its speed scares her. the bird dashes with little reason, followed by the kicked up dirt of fellow sludge pokemon.[break][break]

residents and citizens are already called into the sanctity of the center, much to her relief (the last thing she needs is to watch people of another region falling, though it surprises her to see how well they're holding up regardless). when she thinks that things can't get any worse, a giant pokemon emerges at the station, breaking down what little roof of it was left, with sludge flowing from its oversized body. the putrid scent is nauseating. [break][break]

there's no time, though. [break][break]

"mhm," she hums in response, quick on her feet and making her way to the towering pile of trash in the distance -- the closer she gets, the more tempted she is to cover her nose and lips with a piece of cloth. she'll have to bear with it. [break][break]

"kitsuko!" she calls to the delphox, who runs not too far ahead of the trainer. her wand raises, lifting up the scattered debris to land a sharp PSYSHOCK at the monstrosity.

[break][break]

---

[break]

[break][break]

TL;DR:

• heading out with Callan Young to the station
  
• DELPHOX uses PSYSHOCK on GAROADOR
  

[attr="class","accent"]
[attr="class","fas fa-bookmark"]

[attr="class","lyrics"]
@ @motostoke

[attr="class","milkycredits"] [attr="class","fas fa-cookie-bite"]

[attr="class","pkmnbar"]

[attr="class","postbody"]

she takes it back. [break][break]

it's disgusting. sludge trudges around, leaving only the residue of the stench in its wake. if she hadn't known any better, she'd think that motostoke has become a barren waste dump. her lips curl into a small frown, and she lightly pinches the bridge of her nose. how unsightly. the hands are grotesque - so much so that she has to turn away momentarily.[break][break]

one look at those who came along to the steampunk city, tells her that they're already on top of defending the city - though frankly, she doesn't see why they need to go out of their ways to barricade the entire place... especially not when there's so few of them, and it doesn't look like the residents of this galar appear to be aware of the actual dangers they're in. [break][break]

this isn't real, she tells herself, but it damn doesn't feel that way. [break][break]

although it seems like the others have two other directions dealt with, that still leaves a few places - but it should be okay. she gets the message, although her eyes narrow as she's settling herself in what she thinks, would be a bit of safety. so when she watches a man has his ninetales using FREEZE-DRY, she glances to a bipedal fox, already with her wand in hand to FORTIFY THE DEFENSES. [break][break]

On the other hand, she gazes down at the sludge, and the poison, watching the hands grudge on from safety. "take care of those hands." she commands the fox, whose fire glows brightly, pressing down on the hands with a PSYCHIC - at least until the poison can fade out. The less they have to deal with, the better - the thinner the numbers, the easier retaliation will come.

[break][break]

---

[break]

[break][break]

TL;DR:

• DEPHOX uses PSYCHIC to catch thESE HANDS (major action)
  
• DELPHOX uses PSYCHIC to add a lil bit more to Callan Young's barricade ty (side action)
  

[attr="class","accent"]
[attr="class","fas fa-bookmark"]

[attr="class","lyrics"]
@ @motostoke

[attr="class","milkycredits"] [attr="class","fas fa-cookie-bite"]

[attr="class","pkmnbar"]

[attr="class","postbody"]

Well fuck. [break][break]

Having her party rained on isn't nice, and she gets a taste of its bitter effects in the form of COURT CHANGE. The fear starts to settle in a second time, but she doesn't falter - at least she tries not to (after all, there's nothing scarier to her than a future where her children will never be able to grow up. Maybe it's what's keeping her walking forward in this scorching hell). [break][break]

Her response comes late, delayed, possibly paralyzed despite her attempts to compose herself. Thankfully, the alolan ninetales at her side is aware enough to drag her over to where others gather, and Sheba has to pull herself back together after the shock. "thank you, shiro." she grunts, fingers against her forehead, beneath ice white bangs. [break][break]

MOONLIGHT descends and helps to heal, and helps to soothe, when she can finally move her own feet. [break][break]

and this respite doesn't last long, because something so bizarre happens. [break][break]

"shiro, back." she commands the pokemon. the ice fox returns to her trainer's pokeball, and a large, bipedal fire fox takes its place. "psychic, keep their landings soft." she's still trying to shake off the bewilderment, but it's no time to grumble. a veil of blue envelop Cain Toman , illeana reyes , Selena Desmarais to help them land against the ground, softly. [break][break]

piercing blue eyes give an unknowing glare to the possessed body. yes, she is unnerved. if she had to choose, she'd decide not to ask - but she can't exactly be picky in this situation, now can she? "who is your hero, and what have they done?" [break][break]

if it wants them to tell stories, they need to know who it is they'll be talking about. [break][break]

she watches as the lights go up, and her eyes narrow, and her brows furrow. "we'll head to motostoke." she grumbles, softly. she was always curious about their industry and technology, anyways.

[break][break]

---

[break]

[break][break]

TL;DR:

• DEPHOX uses PSYCHIC to catch the possessed people
  
• Sheba asks who the hero is
  
• motostoke roads take me home
  

[attr="class","accent"]
[attr="class","fas fa-bookmark"]

[attr="class","lyrics"]
@ @rustedsword

[attr="class","milkycredits"] [attr="class","fas fa-cookie-bite"]

[attr="class","pkmnbar"]

[attr="class","postbody"]


how touchy. [break][break]

it's fair, considering his line of work. she ought to have some kind of audacity to assume this work was smooth in and out. but she'll wonder: where is this all coming from? does he have a point to prove, by getting in her face about his line of work? underground work is nothing like business ventures above (she hopes that it isn't; it's already exhausting having to deal with the living and watching for the shadows that lurk beneath the sun). [break][break]

the stench of smoke makes her scrunch her nose under the mask, and her body leans forwards, with cheek in palm and elbow against the table surface. he brings his job up - there's a lot that goes into it. It makes a woman wonder. blue eyes are narrowed beneath the shadow of her cap's bill, but locks of brunette still fall over her shoulders all the same. [break][break]

her legs stay crossed, the other arm raised up to rest against the table with a hum, and another returned glare. "sounds like a lot of work." her tone is starting to taper off the playful side, now as her eyes narrow, slightly, to gaze into the dark corners of a dimly lit room. "so why do it?" [break][break]

he's always in a bad mood when she talks to him, always on the verge of decking someone when she walks through the door, no matter how many times she's made her merry way in. She can't count how many times she's slapped the price his way, along with meticulous information from her client, and never asked. pay and ask no questions, she's so used to (it's become a bit of a habit, a bit of routine). [break][break]

"i know this is all part of your work, all part of making sure you're safe, making sure everything goes smoothly and you don't step on anyone's toes.." a gaze wanders to the cabinets he come back from, and a hum buzzes against her lips. maybe she'll have a nice glass of wine when she gets home. "but why do you kill for work?" now she asks, tilting her head with a leisure hum. [break][break]

"you could do easier shit, less dangerous shit, less killing and less risky shit. so, why don't you?"


[break][break]

[attr="class","accent"]
[attr="class","fas fa-bookmark"]

[attr="class","lyrics"]
@ Cain Toman

[attr="class","milkycredits"] [attr="class","fas fa-cookie-bite"]

[attr="class","pkmnbar"][break]

[attr="class","postbody"]


maybe she is. [break][break]

But that isn't the job she has to do, now is it? it's the job she's paying him to do. it's a wonder why he was being so chatty today. at first, she has trouble trying to understand what the problem is - especially when he actually gets up to grab himself a smoke. her hand instinctively raises to slightly adjust the mask on the bridge of her nose, mostly to try and keep the stench of cigar fumes away. [break][break]

she's at least respectful of hidden identities so, even with his back turned to her, she instinctively lowers the cap on her head, shadowing her vision before looking away to the side. she'll be the first to admit that she's never been interested in the specifics of killing (not that she's ever seen a death before her eyes, nor will she ever like to), it's certainly not an easy job. [break][break]

it's why she hires someone else to do it for her. [break][break]

but of course, she can't say that, now can she? though being spoken down to has never left a good taste in her mouth, she still knows better. "oh?" she hums, cocking her head to the side, only slightly "I'll admit. you've always done a great job" she starts, leaning forwards to rest her elbows against her knees.[break][break]

there's a slight glint to her glare when she gazes at the mask and the hat of his. this approach isn't unfamiliar to her; maybe he just isn't satisfied. "so tell me more about the process, and we'll see about that bet."


[break][break]

[attr="class","accent"]
[attr="class","fas fa-bookmark"]

[attr="class","lyrics"]
@ Cain Toman

[attr="class","milkycredits"] [attr="class","fas fa-cookie-bite"]

[attr="class","pkmnbar"][break]

[attr="class","postbody"]


oh, is that so?[break][break]

"so you're nosy" is said casually, a quick conclusion. though it's still said with a smile of amusement, and some lofty sense of curiosity alike. recalling back to previous hits and requests, wasn't she always detailed with these sorts of requests? although she would usually come in with the usual disguise, there was always someone she needed to kill (and there was always more than one, two, five people willing to take the job for the pay). [break][break]

still, with the same, striking blue eyes (a lie), she smiles and shrugs her shoulders. "I like being thorough." her head tilts further against the palm of her hand, fingers lightly running over the mask's fabric as she squints "doesn't it make your job easier?" [break][break]

It's not his job to investigate, after all. it's only to kill, get rid of the body, and take her money. Nothing more, nothing less. There's something charming about the straight-forwardness of underground work, if she has to be honest. [break][break]

"besides," she only scoffs quietly, under the mask as her legs cross and she leans into the backrest of the seat. "I think we're both just as dirty~" [break][break]

they're the ones putting a price on a human life.

[break][break]

[attr="class","accent"]
[attr="class","fas fa-bookmark"]

[attr="class","lyrics"]
@ Cain Toman

[attr="class","milkycredits"] [attr="class","fas fa-cookie-bite"]

[attr="class","pkmnbar"][break]

[attr="class","postbody"]


"Fashion, make up, doesn't matter." [break][break]

She'll never get used to talking about her own company in a haphazard way - especially when, as the face, she's always been proud and openly prideful of the empire she's built from the ground. It surprises her, slightly, when a man like him can at least recognize the name. Maybe she'll take it as a compliment, knowing it's reached the depths of this world. [break][break]

The pages, lo and behold, detail schedules, routes, and frequented areas. If she wants something done, it's thorough - down to the daily routine in the schedule along with contacts and regular people and visits. She'll write down upcoming events, blocked out dates, and finish the investigation in advance (and she'll make it flawless, as it always has been, and as it always will be).[break][break]

She quirks a brow when he asks, silently debating. He could be a threat, and arrogance never served did any favors - and neither did dishonesty. Sheba knows better than to let things drone on, so she simply shrugs her shoulders, before planting an elbow against the table, and resting her chin against her wrist. "Knows too much." [break][break]

A sigh escapes her lips as she scans the upside of the pages. There's no loyalty unless the money speaks, so she's careful with her words, and careful with her reasoning. "I'm surprised that you cared."[break][break]

[attr="class","accent"]
[attr="class","fas fa-bookmark"]

[attr="class","lyrics"]
@ Cain Toman

[attr="class","milkycredits"] [attr="class","fas fa-cookie-bite"]

[attr="class","pkmnbar"][break]