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!
it was strange. the buildings themselves looked eerily pristine; the city had barely changed since they all had left. yet -- she could not hear the soaring music, the easy laughter, the rustle of the crowds on a fine summer's day. without its people, bacchus was nothing more than an empty husk. her riolu walked quietly alongside her, knowing better than to interrupt.
so she continued exploring the crevices of her memory in silence. (that was where the boy she liked in high school lived.) delilah ran her fingers over a rusted, chain link fence. (and here was where she got into her first fight.)
delilah stopped. she glanced across the abandoned street at her old home. half of her wanted to enter, to see if anything had changed; but the cowardly part of her, the one that ran away from all of her problems -- told her no. this place was no longer home.
Three hundred and sixty-five days was a very long time. One year seemed to be far less. A newly-evolved Molly stood at high alert at his side, blue rings on her fur pulsing occasionally, perhaps in time with her breathing. They stood as silhouettes before a red brick house with pretty white shutters. It looked livable still, sans the dust collecting upon the floor.
There were deep slashes across the door, as if an angry Pokémon had used it as a scratching post.
He'd walked down the streets of Bacchus. Here was where their mother had been trampled upon by a Scourge Tauros. Here was where their father was left lying, bleeding from his throat.
Here was where the light in his left eye had faded.
Mordecai glanced over his shoulder, watching Delilah face away from the pretty brick building. The eerie silence was a positive atmosphere as compared to the pained screams that he could recall. But enough of that.
she stood in silence for a long time, unable to face the building. delilah thought she had already gathered the courage to come back -- she had prepared for this, mentally and emotionally, since she had left -- but, now that she was actually faced with the truth ...
could she really do it?
the woman slowly, slowly moved to mordecai's side. she didn't speak, instead simply taking his left hand in her own. delilah hoped he didn't feel her trembling; she knew he probably could. it was selfish of her to depend on him for support -- after all she'd done -- but she supposed she was simply ... a selfish person.
her head lifted. "i ... shall we go?" delilah's hand tightened around his.
Mordecai blinked as something took his left hand. There was no one around but Delilah, but when was the last time that she had voluntarily taken his hand like this? He felt her quake but didn't comment on it, because his heart was thumping as well. It was for reasons similar to Delilah, but there was still one dirty little secret that he was hiding away.
He couldn't shelter Delilah or Isaac for much longer. For crying out loud, the girl was a woman of twenty-one years now.
The brother squeezed his sister's hand, removing a key from his pocket. Mordecai hadn't trashed the piece of metal after all those months. It slid easily into the keyhole, as if he were returning home from one of their parents' shows. Instead, he was well aware that there was no audience on the other side of the door (and if there was one, it was incredibly unwelcome). The locks clicked, and once Mordecai stowed the key away again, he placed his hand upon the doorknob.
she watched him open the door with apprehension; delilah still hoped, after everything, that their parents would be there, waiting -- that the three of them could come home. they could smile together, laugh together, they could get angry and become sad and it was okay because they would be together.
it was foolish of her to even think there was a home to return to.
their house was empty, layers of dust having settled on every surface. delilah's throat constricted as she glanced around. this was not ... the place she had grown up in. there was no music echoing down the hallways. the sunlight that filtered through the murky windows was no longer warm, inviting.
delilah found comfort in her brother's hand, but pulled him forward anyway.
"you ... go first," she murmured quietly. "please." please.
Mordecai gave his sister's hand one final squeeze, before finally sliding it out of her grasp. He slid his hands into his jacket pockets as he stepped into the familiar building. Mordecai remembered each room, and how many steps it would take to get from the family's music room to his own. He'd never felt any desire to leave the building, and his parents hadn't minded having him stick around either. He'd had the blossoming of his own career as a musician, but with the ravaging of Bacchus Town, he'd abandoned that dream.
He wandered over to the center of the household, where a dusty piano still stood. Mordecai blew on the keyboard's cover before lifting it up. He hesitated for a moment, before hitting the middle C key. The note resonated, and to his surprise, the piano was still in tune. He raised his second hand to the keyboard, playing a simple E-flat scale, suddenly transitioning it into a soft lullaby. The Delacroix children had all specialized in their own instrument, but the piano was something that they were able to pick up on their own.
The house was empty, save for a man, a woman, and a lonely piano.
He closed his eye, feeling the melody swell from within him. Perhaps, if the house had been properly lighted and inhabited, the tune would have been sweet, but in an empty house, it was particularly haunting.
delilah followed, lost in her own memories; some brightened by laughter, some darkened by the frustration and anger that seemed to possess the final bits of her life before the scourge. through the hallways, past the rooms, into the place where they kept their piano -- she was as surprised as he was when the piano still played true.
his lullaby sent shivers down her spine.
the woman wanted to play, of course, but she hadn't touched an instrument in two years; not even her own cello. (its case was still gathering dust in a corner of her apartment in nerio.) the urge in delilah's fingers told her she could still sit at the piano and play as she wanted, but she shook her head to clear her thoughts. she would not; not now, not ever.
she turned on her heel, her boots thumping against the floor, and headed for their destination. "let's go." she wanted to erase the image of that piano.
Mordecai lifted the dusty lid of the keyboard, gently lowering it over the black and white keys. A cloud of dust floated into the air, suspended there, before disappearing into the atmosphere. The interior of the house was entirely untouched, truly, save for the coats of dust. They were the only tell-tale signs that the house of Bacchus Town was abandoned.
His sandals tapped against the wood paneled floor as he followed behind Delilah's clicking boots. They knew exactly where they were going. Neither of them needed directions. They wandered down the hall, passing by an abandoned bedroom. Here was where Mordecai had curled up under sheets during the winters of Bacchus, and here was where Delilah was prone to locking her doors and blasting rock music just to spite their parents. Neither of these empty rooms were what they were looking for though. Mordecai had half the mind to slip into his old room just to rifle through his belongings, but both Delacroix were too focused on a singular goal.
Mordecai paused before a third empty room, a sign hanging askew that read "Come In" on it, decorated by a single, ornate eighth note.
delilah swallowed loudly as they walked, pointedly avoiding her own room. there were too many memories she would rather not have relived. perhaps she would come back again in the future, but she was willing to admit she wasn't even close to being prepared now.
she stopped at the same door as her brother, her finger gently tracing the outline of the note. deep breath in, deep breath out. in, out, in, out -- "let's go in." delilah steeled herself and pushed open the door, a faint creak emenating from the hinges.
the woman stepped inside, her gaze sweeping across the room. "where d'you think it is?"
Mordecai glanced around the room. It was mostly bare, which was typical of a room that Isaac had made his own. He frowned slightly and rubbed the back of his neck. "Only one place it would be," he said, mostly to himself. His eyes swept over the wooden bookshelf, desk, closet, then finally, Isaac's bed. Nestled atop it was, not only a thin layer of dust, but a slightly discolored Lickitung doll.
It was a pretty ugly toy, but years ago, Isaac had bothered Mordecai and Delilah to try and win it for him at a fair (Isaac had been incredibly disheartened that he was notoriously bad at knock-the-cans-over, and since Mordecai and Delilah couldn't bear to see their youngest sibling in low spirits, they ended up spending $20 each trying to get that damn Lickitung doll). Even if one of its button eyes had fallen off and the creature's token tongue was missing, Isaac had loved it all the same.
Mordecai lifted the strange toy off the bed and dusted it off lightly. "Right where he always left it," he said quietly, then held it out for Delilah to take.
delilah reached out to take the doll -- would isaac still want it? -- before pulling her hand back. she shook her head. "you should give it to him," she muttered. "he probably doesn't want it from me." isaac had made it clear, in her mind.
the woman abrubtly turned on her heel. "if that's everything, let's go."
Mordecai shrugs and takes the Lickitung doll from the bed. He tucks it under an arm, glancing at Delilah. So they hadn't made amends yet, it appeared. "I'm not sure if he'd want it from me either," he says quietly.
He turns on his heel to follow Delilah out but stops suddenly.
He can't even finish the sentence. All he can see is the Scourge Houndoom at their father's throat, and their mother trampled by hoofed Scourge Pokémon.
