Finn's final strains of sorrow drained from his eyes, and the alcoholic haze lifted from his head. Sanity crept back into him in slow steps. Where was he? Finn looked up. He was resting on a damp patch on Isaac's shoulder. It was cold.

Wordlessly, he pulled himself off his student and looked about for something dry to wear.

"Erm... Thanks, Isaac." Finn mumbled. He gave him a gruff but soft pat.

Oh, boy. How will I ever face Isaac again?

It would take time for Finn to reckon with what it means to be fully, unpretentiously seen. That was a luxury he had not given himself. It had been cracked out of him, and he would always remember this night as a gateway on the path to growing through pain.

But enough about that - something was off. Finn's ears twitched. Was that a faint slashing sound in the darkness of the woods?

"No." Finn's entirely body stiffened. His eyes shook like birds trapped in cages. Had his tormentor found his way here?

Finn tried not to crumble. He looked back at Isaac, but who was he meant to be? He tried to play strong, but they both knew that was a lie. His eyes were a movie screen playing distorted nightmares.

The slashing sounds grew louder, fiercer, and Finn started trembling again. His Decidueye, though, pulled herself upright, the infernal air between her feathers bristling.

Isaac Merlo

Shame worked like a vicious whirlpool; the more you gave in to it, the more its bitterness intensified. Still, it also felt so good to let it out. Finn cried and cried, hollowing out the black lump in his chest. His kimono was drenched with tears and spit. But as his muscles shook, all the way down to his gut, they released so much tension that he had been guarding for so long. Everything melted away into his kimono and into the grass.

Finn really didn't want Isaac to see him like this, but he also really didn't want to be alone.

It was the irony of shame; you feel the humiliation of being seen, but in being seen you feel the comfort of being witnessed. As if to say, I understand. That was why Finn took a liking to Isaac from the start. Yet, he knew he couldn't fault Isaac if he wanted to find a teacher more worthy than himself. Someone who could actually teach him to defend himself and win. But Finn still reached out like a sleeping Bellsprout turns to the rising sun.

"Please don't leave me."

And Isaac stayed. He sat down by Finn's side and offered a gentle hand, and Finn sobbed even more into his shoulder. He curled up like a child, aware of how weak and inappropriate it looked to find solace in his student, but Finn could accept it now. He was weak. But just because he was weak doesn't mean he was worthless.

"Mmmm." From somewhere primal inside him, instinctive and raw like a foal keens to its mother, Finn cuddled his head into Isaac's shoulder. The occasional shiver rumbled across his frame as his body purged itself of trauma.

Isaac Merlo

Anything but looking up at a student right now, and anyone but Isaac - not just a student but almost a younger brother, some kind of blood-sworn son. Finn knew Isaac didn't judge him, and that almost made it worse. Isaac saw him at his worst. Costume stripped off, blabbering like a fool. He saw that behind his sharp appearance, Finn was just a boy playing dress-up - and recognised him.

Finn sank his face into the grass.

Everything faded into silence. Finn thought he'd willed Isaac away. But then, he felt Isaac's approaching footsteps and his kimono's edge flicker across his shoulders.

He had seen Finn at his worst, and did not turn away.

"You don't get it, Isaac," Finn muttered. He kept his eyes low, his lips still speaking into the grass. "I can't teach you anymore." Isaac might have fond memories of their first match, but those were different times. Neither of them had yet realised the limited scope of Finn's experience and competence. Finn trembled, and that shake deepened into a fissure that struck at the root of his soul. He tried to hold himself together, but the cold revulsive shock rose inside him like a wave.

That old ghost's daggers flashed in Finn's memory again, and the man broke down in tears.

"He was so strong! I tried to fight back, but he got so close to me, and I couldn't do anything! All I could do was run!"

Finn pulled his kimono off Isaac's hands and buried his face in its silk. Each sob got stronger and worse, hollowing out his guts with snot and tears. He cried and cried not just in pity of himself but in release. He finally put a finger on how he felt - he felt scared.

Covered in sweat, liquor, tears and spit, at the foot of someone he was supposed to protect. Finn could smell how pathetic he was. He cried not just because of the attack but because he knew Isaac would leave him now. Finn was a fraud with no claim to Isaac's loyalty and respect. The jig was up.

Isaac Merlo

Finn heard the crunching of grass and the unsheathing of swords, and his sake-addled mind concluded that he was being attacked again. But “again” misses the issue; repetition implies that Finn caught a break. Truth is, Finn never left. In his mind, he was still trapped there in Ultra Deep Sea with Gerald.

Out of reflex, Finn jolted upright and threw out a Pokeball. His Decidueye emerged from her Pokeball and shook the confusion off her feathered cape, not knowing why she was being summoned. Then, she saw Isaac, peered down at her trainer, and understood. She, and the rest of Finn’s team, had seen this replay nightly ever since Finn came back. Yesterday, beer in a cave. Tonight, sake in the woods. She met Isaac’s gaze with a woeful expression, quietly bemoaning the sight in front of them.

Ceruledge’s violet flames roused Finn out of his stupor. He looked up, his soul returning to his eyes, and his face blanched with shame when he realised Isaac was looking down at him like this. Self-consciousness brimmed over his skin like cold water. He was normally proud of his body – and often even showed it off in Flying Sword – but his nakedness now reminded him of his weakness. Of how his muscles and skill dissolved in the face of an opponent he was trained to take down, even trained others to take down.

Finn pulled his knees up to his chest. He tried to crawl towards his crumpled kimono but settled for shielding himself with his hands.

“Go away. I don’t want you to see me like this.”

Finn slurred. He hated that Isaac, of all his students, was the one to discover him like this. But maybe it was good that Isaac saw him like this, for who he really was. He deserved to find out the truth, that he deserved a better teacher.

Finn felt cold.

“Please, just go.”

He turned away. Moonlight carved out his body amidst the trees’ shadows like a sculpture of sorrow.

Isaac Merlo

That big cavern in the red-purple sky still yawned in Finn's soul. Finn heard it, felt its rumbling inside his gut underneath the surface of his daily activities. Finn's swords were less sharp nowadays. His hair seemed to droop. His crown had grown dull.

That maw licked upwards at his thoughts with the hunger of a scavenger waiting for its quarry to die. Some time in the day, Finn would be strolling, eating, or doing something as innocuous as changing in his room, when that feeling of being totally cornered would envelope him as if he were still there in Ultra Deep Sea, swerving from side to side just in time to avoid Gerald's blade.

Sometimes, down the rabbit hole, Finn wondered if he would have preferred it if Gerald had won.

"You win. You're the master."

Sake-stained words from the shameful lips of Master Flying Sword lying in a small glade far off the beaten track. Two empty bottles sat lopsidedly by the side, their contents drained on other secret nights. Finn was sprawled out shirtless on the grass, his kimono and swords flung near the entrance of the clearing. On top of the mess laid the crown he did not deserve to wear.

Isaac Merlo

Unaware of the school? Finn found that hard to believe. A swordsman practising on the fringe of the local hub for swordsmanship not knowing of its existence? Either a lie or the world's biggest coincidence. Finn moved his lips like he was chewing on an imaginary strand of straw, mulling over Mikael's claim. He rested his arms on his knees.

Finn looked down at his Kirlia for a hint. Was this man trouble? With the tensions rising in the region, he couldn't be too sure. Beidou glanced up at him, his eyes like dewdrops on a rose. Finn nodded and placed a reassured hand on Beidou's back. It was good to know this stranger was safe.

"Different styles?" Finn quipped. Now, his interest was piqued. He sprang off his seat on the tree root and drew his two swords proudly. He'd been watching Mikael for a short while, and he was also interested in how the two of them fought so differently. Mikael's single sword was broader, heavier, stronger. Finn, in contrast, was like a flying dart.

Perhaps a demonstration. Clearing his breath, Finn imagined a clear line of light down his centre. Then, he spun into action. Moving deftly, like the gleam of light on a Scyther's blade, he slashed forward and cut down just a single branch of a tree next to him. The rest of the plant's frame barely even breathed.

Simplicity and precision. That was how Finn fought.

"That's how the school does it. I like how you fight, though - so much force and fire." Finn stuck his swords into the soft ground and strode over to Mikael with his hand stretched out.

"Finnegan. Nice to meet you, traveller."

mikael rosenberg

DONATING/EXCHANGING

THANK YOU FOR YOUR CONTRIBUTIONS!

[break]

DONATING: 0 MP TO THE LEAGUE[break]

EXCHANGING: 500 MP FOR IRON VALIANT[break]

CURRENT TOTAL MP: 20

Finn looked out into the woods from his balcony, his eyebrows raised. He could hear the sound of swords slashing in the trees. There wasn't any forest training scheduled for today. Which one of his students was so hardworking?

He put his mug down, pulled on a tank top and ruffled his green hair into place.

A good stride to the side of the clearing where Mikael was running through his drills, Finn popped out from a Teleport wormhole courtesy of his Kirlia, Beidou. His swords were slung easily across his broad back. He glanced over to Mikael and looked on in surprise. Someone new to Flying Sword! He admired the man's sword work. It was Western-styled and traded dexterity for strength. Beidou's horns twitched as they always did when picking up on the emotions of a new person. Finn could feel psychic warmth ebbing softly from Beidou. A good sign - this person could be trusted.

An idea for random mischief popped up in Finn's head. This man looked and fought foreign. How much about Flying Sword did he know?

"What're you preparing for?" Finn announced his presence. He strode over and took a seat on a large tree root; Beidou stood close by his side. "Prepping to try out at the sword school?"

mikael rosenberg

Bawang's attack was vicious, but Gerald was annoyingly always one step ahead. Finn grimaced as he saw a Froslass throw up a Protect, nullifying what could have been an instant kill.

Yes, kill. Finn was at that point now. The purple sky groaned as if it bemoaned the loss of a soul to suck on.

Finnegan wanted to sink a blade into Gerald's chest. He hated how the bastard made him dodge and dance like he was a child bullied. Almost without effort, Gerald took away every honour and pride that Finn held close to his chest. Finn tried fighting back, but his attack was a useless gust of wind against a solid shield. The sky yawned above him, resonating with a cavern inside his chest that oozed darkness black like a Darkrai's soul. It was hopeless. He almost wanted to cry.

But all things considered, Finn valued survival over pride.

"Hold them here," he muttered. Bawang roared and torrents of cold flood water exploded from cracks in the ground, engulfing Gerald's side of the cavern in a Whirlpool.

It was time for the master to fly. With a baneful look, Finn recalled his Gyarados and leaped onto Futou's back, and the speedy mantis blitzed out with a Quick Attack. Humbled, Master Flying Sword has flown the coop.

Gerald Kaiser

MP Count:

- 60 MP (10 MP per IC post in a Postdormitum Battle/Mission.)
- 150 MP for completing a Postdormitum Battle.
- 300 MP for "losing" a Postdormitum Battle/Mission.
- 10 MP for incorporating the realm's mutations or feelings of paranoia in a thread

Total: 520 MP

PURCHASING/REDEEMING

welcome to the poké mart!

After 2 weeks in the garden, Grovyle -> Sceptile

Finn's fringe bristled with life, as it always did when people asked him about his martial art.

"Swordplay. I'm a double wielder. Swords are the perfect balance between grace and power." He grinned, almost giddily, as he recalled the feeling of his swords' hilts.

"Do you practice yourself?"

THEO BECKETT

Finn's muscles tightened up all over his body like he was using Defence Curl, but the hit he was dreading never landed. Futou, Finn's Scyther, warded Gerald back by a good few feet, but would their respite last long?

Gerald released an electric terror so tall and bright it lit up the dark belly of the sky. Finn's fringe stood on end in the tingling air.

What the fuck is that thing?

Finn had only ever seen news reports about these creatures. They were things out there, things of modern myth; he wasn't meant to see one himself. The realness of the situation crashed over him like ice water. Was that shiver from the static in the air or his fear?

Transfixed, Finn stared as the Xurkitree started to shine.

Cables slashed through the air like metal whips flying with magnet force, launching a glowing bomb in their direction. The Zap Cannon glowed so densely it warped the space with its gravity. Finn could feel the air ionise all around him, sucking him into the missile's awful beauty...

The beast was fast, but Scyther was faster.

Shrrngg!

Cloaked in speedy light, Futou threw Finn over its shoulder and blitzed clear out of blasting range. Finn felt the world spin around him in a mad rush of light and cloudy shadow, and an immense shock wave that rumbled right into his bones. And then, his back slammed into the hard ground. 

Finn's vision cleared and he saw Futou looking down at him with intense concern. He could feel the tip of his fringe sizzling from the Zap Cannon's crash radius. 

"Thanks, buddy." 

Finn shook off the alien dust from his sleeves. The distance between him and his enemy gave him clarity, and with that vision came wrath. This bastard had him running, avoiding, dodging, for far too long. 

"Bawang, you're up!" 

The Xurkitree was tall, but Finn's Gyarados towered over him. The dragon's fangs flashed like swords and his red eyes looked like alien suns. 

It might be stupid for Finn to use Bawang against an electric bomb-slinger. But Finn had taken a leaf from Gerald's book. 

"Go!" 

With a sky-splitting roar, Bawang released a Hurricane from his mouth that cycloned outwards at a howling speed. Not at the Xurkitree - but Gerald. 

Gerald Kaiser