This world is inhabited by creatures that we call pokemon. People and pokemon live together by supporting each other, but now the scourge threatens the safety of the entire region. Kohaku has become a dangerous place, where children stay at home and only brave souls go adventuring.
Welcome to KOHAKU. Come for the nightmares. Stay for the tea and crumpets.
The season is SUMMER. It is easy for survivors to forage for food from the land, as there are entire abandoned farms ready for harvest. On the downside, you can smell the corpses.
swarms
GRAND OPENING !
Welcome to KOHAKU REGION's grand opening! If you're interested in joining, come check out our grand opening giveaway!
He stares at it, tapping his foot on the ground at breakneck pace. It won its first battle the other day, against a type disadvantage, and if he was anything but greedy for more he bets he might even be proud. But he's not that kind of person, he's a winner, triumphant after everybody else has fallen. It's the reason, he supposes, that the echoes of not good enough still refuse to leave his thoughts, even now.
Still, he gives the leash some slack today, even through the frown and narrowed eyes that he pastes onto his expression. "You may have won the other day, but it could've been a fluke. The others are climbing ahead." Natu clicks its beak together and claws at the dirt, maybe in protest as Jayden shoves his face close to its beady black eyes. "You need to keep up, got that? I'm not going to baby you forever." It's one of many times he's been to the training arena, but this time's given one word too many, and he steps back, pointing at that tall tree that's materialized before them.
"Climb." He's given up on flying, but as natu scrabbles and claws its way up, peeling bark in its wake, he reminds himself that there's still hope as long as the dual type doesn't give up.
"into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely."
"Try harder." Shellos gives a whine, bobbing uncomfortably as the branch falls to the water for the fifth time. She blinks, vaguely wondering if her unconscious mind is the reason the waves churn so rough, swaying the water type to peaks and lows that doesn't make the task she's set for it any easier.
It doesn't help that the tree branch is heavy, and every time it falls it sinks swiftly to the riverbed and shellos dips down now, its rear in the air as it searches for the suitable training tool that's taken them hours to find. Balance is key to a lot of things, she knows - move accuracy, agility, keeping calm under the circumstances. And its the reason that shellos has failed so many times that only furthers her hypothesis that this is what the creature needs to focus on the most.
It takes a few moments, but shellos surfaces again, the branch clamped tight in its mouth as the rest of its body drips with water. At least, Victoria muses, if anything comes out of this exercise, its the conclusion that shellos might make an excellent fisherman when this is all over.
"into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely."
It sits on a small patch of grass, tail waving in the wind, paws raised up to its mouth like the stance of a king. He stands near it but not close, one hand clenching in and out of a fist in slow motions while the other nurses a wound that runs from one thumb to his wrist. It stopped bleeding half an hour ago, which means they've been here at least that long, perhaps longer.
To him, it's a simple order - not training, not continuous work that he makes his veteran pokemon do, but a simple test of strength, something that the creature should jump at the mention of. And perhaps, if he looks close at the blurring lines, it obeyed, except instead of the tree trunk that's gouged he's got a shallow scratch down his hand. Like always, it's not good enough, but he doesn't expect much from a hatchling.
He must've stared at it for too long, because the creature lifts up its head and hisses, baring a small row of teeth. "Why don't you just leave if you hate this so much?" He snaps out, pointing at the distant road and standing back, both hands crossed over each other. But, like usual, Zorua only holds his glare for a couple seconds before it goes back to grooming itself in short, steady strokes.
It's irritating that they've gotten off to a bad start. It's frustrating because he doesn't understand why.
"into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely."
Sparks flicker, the surroundings darken and all of a sudden, the light grows blinding, bright. Her gaze brightens, slightly, before pikachu lets out an exasperated sigh and everything evaporates, her dream reality setting in again. There's a pile of branches, slightly charred leaves that hang from it like the remains of a carcass, a stream running somewhere in the background.
Pikachu turns to the pile and gives it a kick - the world smells like wood, and she knows there's something burning because she can feel it. Facts tell her that electric attacks can't hurt wood. Evidence tells her that, even after so many tries, pikachu's only been able to make an impression on the leaves. "Keep trying." She points at it, then stares at pikachu.
The creature's tail twitches as it closes its eyes, and she braces herself.
"into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely."
There are two kinds of pokemon on his team - the ones that accept, and ones who protest. And while he hasn't ever tried to separate them into these respective categories, its only because he finds that they've done so themselves, ahead of time. Part of him wonders whether or not zorua falls into either one of these categories, and whether or not the pokemon is trying to convey this to him by doing what it does, or if its just its nature to do such things.
He tries something different today, something that's never been done before, and if he wasn't so fixated on figuring zorua out, he thinks he'd definitely have abandoned the pokemon long ago, but he doesn't. Instead, he tells the pokemon that it has to do something productive, and that, as long as it doesn't sit and groom itself all day, it counts as training and he'll let it off the hook for another few days. Today, Zorua leaps into the stream that his dream's conjured up, then swims to the other side and back. Gets out, shakes water off its pelt and sits down, basking its dripping fur in the weak sunlight and grooming its hide.
He wonders if its a good start, or the beginning of something horrible.
"into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely."
The training wheels are almost up. He stands, watching natu scrabble up the tallest tree yet, wings flapping, claws tearing up clusters of bark in their wake. He tells it, before they start training, that this is the last time, that he's not going to baby it any longer after this. "And its not because you're beyond help." Though he wishes that were the case, he tries to say in his eyes, but fails. "It's because you've proven that you're able to take care of yourself."
He wonders if its those words, or the excitement of finally being able to break away from this place that makes Natu so determined, but he knows that the dual type knows that this isn't the last they'll see of this dream world, mist coating the edges. And as Natu reaches the topmost branch, sticks its beak up out of the leaves and sits there, wings fluttering, eyes shining he realizes that there's going to come a time where he has to stop babying himself, and that time is fast approaching. Bites his lip, jerks his head for the avian to come down and uses that time to ponder what the next course of action is going to be.
"into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely."
Honestly, it's the first time he's been in these kinds of situations, and also honestly, he's not sure he likes what he sees. It's supposed to be a warlord someday, a destroyer that wrecks everything in its path. All he sees is a fish that's out of water, something his unconscious mind was cruel enough to deprive the misty dream-world of, this time around.
It doesn't look like its in any pain - the only reason that's actually keeping him from calling it quits and willing himself awake again - on the contrary, it looks like its having fun, whiskers curling, fins flapping but it doesn't gasp, not the slightest. And he kicks it, once (nudges it with a toe, because kicks are solely reserved for it), half curious to see its worth but all the fish does is flop on its face, only then starting to panic in short, dusty breaths of air. Seconds tick by. Jayden bends down, puts his palm under and flips it over again like he's barbecuing it for dinner (but the ground's ice cold, like it always is).
They're going to be big, one day, regardless of his doubts, he knows, he repeats.
"into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely."
His finger is inches from its face, sparks flying off and shocking his nerves to the very core. It twists its head and bunches up its tongue, giving the spot that has a tuft sticking up a few experimental, quick licks so that the electricity doesn't shock it to the point of burning, as it has the last few times. Grimaces, almost in disgust, then turns away and starts to paw at it in the most undignified manner, baring teeth.
He smiles, gloating, teeth showing, eyes glowing. "Not so invincible now, are we?" Zorua hisses, swiping in a manner that makes him pull his finger back sharply and scowl at it, frustration creasing his brow. He still doesn't understand anything about it, why it stays and, more importantly, why he still bothers with it. It doesn't like the training arena, that much is clear from the way it lounges around or hisses at him when he gets close. Yet its teamwork is so poor that he had no choice, and it really is natu(xatu)'s opposite, through and through.
He touches zorua's fur with a finger, again, as it lays its head down to sleep, and it shocks him. Zorua rears up, snaps at him, and he barely avoids teeth, sharp pinpricks grazing skin that doesn't quite draw blood.
"into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely."