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CONSTELLATION SEARCHING

POSTED ON Nov 6, 2024 7:10:40 GMT

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[nospaces]

[attr="class","miyako"]

[attr="class","body"]

absinthe finally breaks away from her work only when her eyes refuse to focus any longer, and her hand cramps from clutching a pen. she's exhausted, mentally and physically, and her empty stomach churns with an acidic sense of loneliness. deciding to eat, she prepares a meager meal of canned soup and bread, but her appetite wanes halfway through her meal. she drops her spoon, soup splattering the tabletop below.[break][break]

it isn't enough to distract her from her thoughts, so she moves to her balcony, bottle of wine in hand. she gulps down a mouthful of the sharp liquid, feeling it burn her throat all the way down into her stomach, and lets out a shaky breath as she stares upwards into the endless canvas of space.[break][break]

the stars glimmer like tiny jewels embedded into the darkness. they seem to weave in and out and form tiny pictures only recognizable to those who know their patterns. her hand raises, absinthe unconsciously mimicking the motion she had done when she was little, connecting the imaginary dots of a pattern like stars in the sky.[break][break]

as she gazes at the night sky, her gaze shifts to an inconspicuous patch of the stars and she recognizes what seems to be a small fishlike constellation, the details of the creature swimming through the dark sea of space.[break][break]

@tag[break][break]

NOTES

- guessing that one as BeRn

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abby, lady taipan

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32 years old

November 4th

slateport

bisexual

bar owner, drug manufacturer

scientist

5'6" height

i used to dream in the dark of palisades park.

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the tear inside my soul | c

POSTED ON Nov 6, 2024 6:26:41 GMT

[nospaces]

[attr="class","absinthe"]

[attr="class","body"]

absinthe cannot help but to watch with curious eyes, lifted head, as the newcomer walks in. not many come this way. in fact, not many have come this way in quite a long time. a pair of patrons left shortly before this newcomer walked in, arms slung around each other and eyes glazed. they left their tab open. they never closed it. she didn't even have to ask them to leave. they staggered out like they were caught in a daze. she does that to people.[break][break]

absinthe had watched them through half-closed eyes, as she does to anyone who stumbles in. she watched, she always watches, because she must keep up with the going-ons, make sure no one touches anything valuable, anything dangerous. but she won't follow them when they leave, because she can't.[break][break]

she does not think she can go out into the sunlight anymore. she's grown paler with each passing day, like something slowly draining away, and the idea of stepping outside fills her with dread. that's what happens when one has spent too much time lurking in their own shadows, she thinks, but it doesn't make her feel any less sick to her stomach when she ponders on it.[break][break]

but this newcomer, they bring a change. they don't look like a drifter, a lost soul seeking a moment of silence in a place of emptiness, a place where sins and whispers die in corners. this is a young girl, well-to-do, probably a student — something in her posture and her speech and the way she holds herself says so. what could have drawn her here? curiosity? boredom? an adventure outside of her gilded cage? absinthe is honestly not sure.[break][break]

worst of all, she looks familiar, in an annoying sort of way.[break][break]

the mention of a menu leads absinthe to shake her head, a sneer crinkling the space between her brows. "no menu," she returns. "just ask for what you want."[break][break]

a beat, and absinthe's eyes grow more severe.[break][break]

"and do it quickly."

Lavinia Kubrick[break][break]

NOTES

- n/a

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November 4th

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5'6" height

i used to dream in the dark of palisades park.

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show me your thorns | c

POSTED ON Nov 6, 2024 6:19:04 GMT

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[nospaces]

[attr="class","absinthe"]

[attr="class","body"]

she sees something flicker through his gaze, and she knows that he's figured it out, knows that there's something dark in the back of her head, something wicked and cruel and afraid. there's a truth that she had tried her best to hide, to keep close to her chest, but howard has found it and brought it to light.[break][break]

absinthe's hands tremble very, very slightly at his words. they betray her insecurity, her uncertainty, her fear. they betray that she doesn't believe she's doing the right thing. they betray her.[break][break]

what can she say? that she's terrified of the power she might discover? that she's afraid of what it might do to her and to those she cares for? that she knows that the second she starts making breakthroughs, she'll be sacrificed on an altar?[break][break]

she's sick with fear that if she shows any doubt, any sign that she may be backing out or changing her mind about the shard, she will be abandoned again. left in the dark again, all alone with her guilt and misery as her only companions.[break][break]

and for a moment, absinthe considers baring herself. she considers telling him about the guilt that courses through her veins with every step she takes, about the nightmares that leave her tired even upon waking, about the heavy, soul-crushing pressure of knowing what a failure she is and knowing there's no way to go back now.[break][break]

she wants to. she's desperate for him to understand.[break][break]

but her pride won't let her speak.[break][break]

she watches howard with a measured gaze, trying to discern what his expression might mean. does he pity her? does he fear her? does he understand?[break][break]

he says 'who knows?', and absinthe has to clench her hands to keep them from shaking.[break][break]

absinthe unclenches her jaw as best she can, feeling the tension in her cheeks. "we're all just stumbling in the dark," she admits, her voice low and shaking. "every single one of us. what choice do i have but to pretend i can see? what choice does any of us have?"[break][break]

there's the briefest pause. absinthe inhales, once, twice, a deep breath that seems to fortify her.[break][break]

"i'm not asking for forgiveness. i'm not asking for your understanding, or approval," she says, each word staccato and separate, like the ticking of a clock. "i'm asking you to let me make the choice i am making."

howard slayte[break][break]

NOTES

- n/a

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processed shop

POSTED ON Nov 5, 2024 21:13:55 GMT

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PURCHASING

welcome to the poké mart!

1X tera orb (500 PD)
1X psychic tera shard used on toxapex (0 PD)

TOTAL

do come again!

500 PD

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COSMOLOGIC QUARRY SIGN-UPS

POSTED ON Nov 5, 2024 7:22:59 GMT

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COSMOLOGIC QUARRY[break]SIGN-UPS

INTO THE ULTRA WILDS

CHARACTERS: Evelyn Vespera Absinthe Blackwood Rose Soleil Madeline McKenna[break]
LOCATION: Ultra Plant[break]
GIMMICKS:

Absinthe: mega evolution, tera (pending shop purchase)
Evelyn: mega evolution, tera
Rose: n/a
Madd: mega evolution, tera

[break]
READY CHECK: ready![break]

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Beef or Chicken? [S]

POSTED ON Nov 5, 2024 5:00:35 GMT

[nospaces]

[attr="class","absinthe"]

[attr="class","body"]

the damn bird is, often, more trouble than it is truly worth.[break][break]

she had accepted the shard, forsaking a useful scientific peer, all for the chance to be able to study the neverrot in more detail. while studies of the fezandipiti's physiology have proved fruitful and fascinating, the toxic chains hanging from the vibrant plumage on its chest are little more than decorations. it is not the real thing. it never will be.[break][break]

at the very least, it makes poaching pokemon important to her work easier. all it needs to do is step forward and ruffle its feathers to release noxious pheromones into the air, and absinthe's victims are putty in her hands. it’s already sent many a flying type plummeting to the earth or sent several poison types cowering in the underbrush. she feels guilty at the times, but that guilt does not last. what can guilt do but fester and rot in the darkest corners of her mind?[break][break]

she has returned to petalburg woods with the intent of continuing her search for a useful pokemon when she hears a voice screaming in frustration at a vehicle. she's too far away to see what's going on, but she'd know that voice anywhere. the fezandipiti echo, standing alert at her side, sends a pinprick gaze to the distance, curling its wings about its body like a feathered shawl.[break][break]

june—getting closer, too. absinthe's heart surges in her chest and her palms fly down into the pockets of her lab coat, where desperate fingers lurch and grasp for purchase on the shard that will render her poorly-kept secret invisible. alas, the underbrush parts with extreme speed before she can grasp it. a second later, something emerges.[break][break]

she notices its face first. surging violet electricity, pockmarked with stars and constellations, crackling in the air and framing treads that balloon out from its chest. deep set eyes, exhaust engines for legs, and a long, whip-like tail.[break][break]

absinthe has never seen anything like it before. she's not sure she's supposed to—it's a sight only for the worthy, and absinthe will never be worthy.[break][break]

as such, there is only one thing to say:[break][break]

"what the fuck."

june sleigh[break][break]

NOTES

- n/a

[attr="class","pkmn"]

fezandipiti shard / ♂ / toxic chain / moonblast, roost, flatter, cross poison, swagger, attract

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November 4th

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a den of vipers

POSTED ON Nov 5, 2024 1:20:04 GMT

[nospaces]

[attr="class","displaydevice6"]

[attr="class","displayborder"]

[attr="class","displaybox6"]

[attr="class","displaypkmn1"]

[attr="class","displayscreen6"]

[attr="class","displaycolor6"]

[attr="class","displayborderg"]

[attr="class","displayflowers"]

[attr="class","displaytitle"]i am both the sacrificial lamb

[attr="class","displaytext"]

and the executioner

[break][break]

the snake pit is silent, save for the sound of the rain pelting against the roof. it is late—very late. outside, the streets are slick with water and grime, and every once in a while, a rumble of thunder sounds off in the distance.[break][break]

in the back of the bar, tucked away in a small office, absinthe sits, slouched over an old wooden desk, bathed in the dim glow of an equally old desk lamp. on the desk, an unfinished glass of amber liquid, forgotten. in her hand, a photograph. it is worn at the edges, a testament to the years since it had been taken. in it, a younger absinthe—no mask, no scars—stands beside a man absinthe barely remembers now. they are both smiling, a happiness that seems almost foreign to her now.[break][break]

with a heavy sigh, absinthe sets the photograph down, her eyes drifting to the calendar on her wall. november fourth. her birthday. she should have known—it wasn't as though she'd been able to forget, not really, but it still feels strange, the realization that another year has passed.[break][break]

there are no candles to blow out, no presents to unwrap, no friends or family to celebrate with. just the rain, and the silence, and the ever-present weight of the life she'd lost.[break][break]

"happy birthday, absinthe," she mutters, lifting her glass in a mock toast. "may this year be as shitty as the last."[break][break]

she downs the rest of her drink in one gulp, wincing as it burns her throat. then, with a sigh, she pushes herself up from her chair, grabbing her coat and keys as she made her way to the door.[break][break]

it is late, and she is tired, and for once, absinthe doesn't want to be alone. she'll go to the lab, lose herself in her work, like she always does. maybe this year won't be so bad. probably, but there's always hope.

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November 4th

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i used to dream in the dark of palisades park.

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Knight Among Vipers

POSTED ON Nov 5, 2024 1:00:20 GMT

[nospaces]

[attr="class","absinthe"]

[attr="class","body"]

a kid walks into a bar. a viper meets him.[break][break]

she is running a dirty rag over aged, scratched glasses when he enters. though the bell over the door announces his entrance, the bartender hardly spares a glance upward from her task. in distant shores, far away from this den of debauchery, such isolation between client and proprietor must seem rude. for the snake pit, though, it is typical. absinthe reserves her full attention only for the clients who truly deserve it, and few regulars have even made their way onto this exclusive list.[break][break]

the door creaks as it swings on its hinges again, closing with a click like a rattlesnake. footsteps approach the counter and the kid speaks. 'ma'am', he calls her, and absinthe's throat undulates with the force of a hardly suppressed laugh.[break][break]

it's been years since she's been spoken to like this—like somebody deserving of respect. this is how she knows the boy in front of her is barking up the wrong tree.[break][break]

absinthe sets down her rag, her cup, and her dignity, and lifts her head to meet the boy's gaze.[break][break]

"i don't carry sherry," she replies finally. "either ask for hard liquor or get the hell out."[break][break]

she tilts her head, eyes narrowing.[break][break]

"you lost?"

Percival Berlitz[break][break]

NOTES

- n/a

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November 4th

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kill your kindness | c

POSTED ON Nov 5, 2024 0:40:09 GMT

[nospaces]

[attr="class","absinthe"]

[attr="class","body"]

there's a smile, genuine, when himiko raises her glass. absinthe is pleased that she can share this small part of her past with himiko, some common ground that maybe, just maybe, can give her the strength she needs to keep going.[break][break]

absinthe swallows, feeling the drink burn a smooth, slow path down her throat. her voice is husky as she lifts her glass to hers. "brighter futures and lovely company, indeed." she toasts himiko with a wistful sadness. "and to beginnings of healing. old wounds, old scars. the kind that last forever."[break][break]

absinthe has an affair with such irony. with enough whiskey in the system, just about anything can sound funny, bittersweet even. humor is an entire comedy routine played on what she knows will probably leave the biggest cut. she laughs a little.[break][break]

himiko asks absinthe to live for herself, to live for others. the words settle like rain within her soul, but there is a barrier erected between reason and her heart. she tries to echo those promises to herself, about change and forgiveness. trying is the only way she'll get somewhere.[break][break]

himiko was the first person to acknowledge the person that she could be once again, for who absinthe once was. all it took was speaking with the woman long enough and admitting all her fears.[break][break]

absinthe pours another shot, and will continue to do so for as long as the night lasts, wishing only to bask in a space where she is a woman and not a monster for just a little longer.

Yamaguchi Himiko[break][break]

NOTES

- n/a

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November 4th

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i used to dream in the dark of palisades park.

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The Local Hoenn Guidebook

POSTED ON Nov 5, 2024 0:19:50 GMT

THE SNAKE PIT

Category: dive bar
Owner: Absinthe Blackwood
Location: slateport
Description: a dingy, hole-in-the-wall establishment with barely enough room to fit the bar, three booths, and a dusty grand piano. with no advertisements, no website, and no reviews, the snake pit is found only by word of mouth—or, if you're unlucky, by knowing the owner. regulars note that you shouldn't ask any questions of the woman who owns it—get your drinks, do your business, and get the hell out.

the snake pit caters specially towards the criminal underworld, and has a reputation for allowing business meetings that might otherwise get the cops called. the drinks are good, but not phenomenal. there is a kitchen through swinging double doors, but the snake pit serves no food. sometimes, if you have the right information, you may even be allowed access to the hidden menu—a catalogue of highly illegal drugs, manufactured, designed, and sold for a hefty price.

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November 4th

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set a watchman | c

POSTED ON Nov 3, 2024 6:22:47 GMT

[nospaces]

[attr="class","absinthe"]

[attr="class","body"]

absinthe tilts her head back up to the sky.[break][break]

"you are so foolish."[break][break]

to give to people that would never dig into their own pockets in return is, possibly, the height of stupidity.[break][break]

deep down, absinthe envies june. it is something she would never admit out loud, but she does. their circumstances were similar—the people they loved were killed. but where absinthe descended into a pit of callous cruelty, june still finds it in her heart to engage in something as ridiculous as altruism.[break][break]

june leaves. absinthe begins to cry.

june sleigh[break][break]

NOTES

- n/a

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November 4th

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i used to dream in the dark of palisades park.

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something always burns | m, open

POSTED ON Nov 3, 2024 6:15:44 GMT

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[nospaces]

[attr="class","absinthe"]

[attr="class","body"]

she listens. she nods once when he mentions they used to be close, before they fell to opposite ends of a spectrum she isn't sure she recognizes. it used to be her husband on one end, absinthe on the other. maybe it was the same. maybe his friend found happiness in someone else.[break][break]

her throat tightens, but her heart also leaps to say the unsaid truth: people do not return to each other after twenty-seven years apart and remain the same. maybe the distance forged two new people entirely. maybe they're too foreign for forgiveness, whatever grigori had wanted.[break][break]

and absinthe knows the truth in his confession even before she says:[break][break]

"you killed him."[break][break]

he would not have told her if his story ended any other way. absinthe swallows hard, the sound audible as the stone in her throat expands. even if his friend's blood did not stain his hands now, in this exact moment, as the doctor's does hers, she knows the truth—knows it in the cold, the dark, in the grim resignation of his words. knows it in the trembling heartbeat that's synced between them right now.[break][break]

her hand reaches out and touches his shoulder, just as he did for her.[break][break]

"we share the same hands, then," she manages. "we are both covered in blood."[break][break]

she pauses, drawing in a steadying breath that hisses through her respirator.[break][break]

"will our sins ever fade? or will they hunt us forever?"

Grigori Sokolov[break][break]

NOTES

- n/a

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set a watchman | c

POSTED ON Nov 3, 2024 5:43:00 GMT

[nospaces]

[attr="class","absinthe"]

[attr="class","body"]

what in the world could june possibly have to say to her now? she'd said goodbye, she'd offered absinthe every last bit of help she could possibly give her. was she just going to sit back on the talonflame all night?[break][break]

absinthe lowers her head to pin june with an icy stare, irritation clear on her face. "what?" she snaps, not in the mood to stand on any sort of ceremony after june has so soundly kicked over her latest set of problems.

june sleigh[break][break]

NOTES

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abby, lady taipan

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32 years old

November 4th

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i used to dream in the dark of palisades park.

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something always burns | m, open

POSTED ON Nov 3, 2024 5:38:50 GMT

[nospaces]

[attr="class","absinthe"]

[attr="class","body"]

absinthe's eyes close. a part of her thought she'd be in this alley alone until she was consumed by the shadows. until the guilt she felt became physical, a weight too much to hold, a second soul was here. one she had not anticipated, at that. and maybe that is why she feels bold enough to ask for more than she deserves.[break][break]

maybe she asks because he seems to believe that such a thing might help. that mutual suffering could heal their open wounds. absinthe would call him a fool, and then realize she would be calling herself such in the same breath. but they had been the same in so many other ways before this moment, maybe this won't be so different.[break][break]

if his eyes have seen such horrors and such deep despair as hers, then what is one more sorrow?[break][break]

she leans up against the dumpster and feels her fingers twitch, seeking the flask in her coat, even knowing that she cannot drink out of it with the man still in front of her.[break][break]

"you may share," she finally allows, a fragile feeling thrumming through her. absinthe feels her throat tightening around a stone stuck in it. "but only if you want to."

Grigori Sokolov[break][break]

NOTES

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