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!
In the morning, she'd woken up to an empty apartment. Calling it morning was a bit generous. It was high sun already, just an hour or two short of midday. Neo yawned. It wasn't quite empty either. There remained a lingering scent of breakfast, which Delta must've left for her in the kitchen, neatly prepared and presented. She assumed he'd gone out for a burn heal. There was also Phoebe, lightly napping under the window.
Phoebe woke up as Neo moved around the apartment. She ate breakfast, washed the plate and utensils and set them out to dry. After that, she headed out to town, dressed in black and only a touch to sleek to be casual. She was proud to say that she only fussed over her appearance in the bathroom mirror for--say--an hour.
She skipped the club and instead went for the casino. It was too early to bother waiting for Delta at the club, and the poker tables always entertained her anyway. Hers was an artful game: clean poker faces and meticulous counting complimented with aggressive risk-taking. Neo played with the confidence of someone that could make back any regretful losses through rounds and rounds of calculative skill.
When it was later (much later, time seemed to fly by when she gambled--the only thing on her mind was cards, percentages, and projected returns), Neo left the casino with moderate winnings for the Yagi-Head. To her moderate confusion, they gave her a selection of masques at the entrance, and she took one that covered only her eyes, painted and spangled in the pattern of a beautifly's wings.
She waited at the bar, nursing a mint julep while going through data on her pokedex.
iskander woke up earlier than both neo and phoebe, and had decided to fix up some breakfast. the man had managed a simple meal, and made it as cleanly and neatly as he could. after finishing his share and cleaning up, he quietly left the apartment in search of a burn heal. for a person carrying a lot of healing items, he had run out of status healers; he supposed he shouldn't be surprised about it, considering how cameron wielded both the power of ground and fire.
a good part of his morning had been spent roaming the expansive department store, and when he emerged from it, bloated from all the free samples that were given out, the sun was already setting and the city square was abuzz with activity. clad in a new suit he had bought on zahir's tab (he was certain that the other agent wouldn't mind), he headed straight for the yagi-head in the casino.
as expected, he had been slightly late for the event; the party was already in full swing by the time he arrived. he was careful to hold his bandaged hand away, and slipped on the mask he had prepared beforehand as he entered. (it was then that iskander realized that he had forgotten to let neo know that it was a masquerade party.) he waltzed around the crowds, identifying a few familiar faces that were frequent clubbers, but refrained from making contact. anonymity was to be enjoyed, not to be destroyed.
iskander made his way to the bar, noting with a concealed smile that the bartenders were similarly-dressed. he noted that staff members wore masks modelled after legendary creatures, if the masks the bartenders had on were anything to go by. he noted a virizon and terrakion; there were two others missing, but he supposed they were stationed somewhere else. gesturing to the terrakion bartender, iskander opted for a white russia, before disappearing into the crowds again.
It occurred to Neo that there was no bloody way to recognize Iskander at the club what with everyone wearing masks. She'd need to start looking for him, probably. She could expect him to find her--the bar was a pretty obvious spot to check--but quite frankly, it's easier to spot a taller person in a crowd than someone Neo's size.
She set her pokedex down to speak to the first stranger that approached her. They talked idle pleasantries; she hesitated before giving him the next song, and then she parted, because she was waiting for someone. No point in lingering with one stranger for too long.
Neo called a stop to the alcohol after the second mint julep (which someone bought for her), because it was getting harder for her to tell faces apart. Or indeed, bodies/masks apart, because she couldn't see any faces for the masquerade to begin with. Neo had one guide still though: unless he'd found a miracle burn heal, Iskander's hand was still bandaged. Granted, checking men for bandaged hands was no easy feat. She weaved through dance partners, passing men off after only a verse of a song, remaining long enough for politeness' sake and to check for bandages on their hand.
Just yesterday, she'd claimed that if Iskander would go to a club, he'd find plenty of attention with a face like his. She'd meant that only if his could could bloody well be seen.
conversation came easily to iskander, and he quickly found himself on his fourth drink while being surrounded by jokes and easy conversation. he never was in control of where the conversation went, but as long as they didn't skirt too close to his identity, he went along without much qualms. laughing at the right time, and smiling at the right time too, had indeed worked to his favour. perhaps the secret to sustaining a good relationship was smiling less. armed with new knowledge, iskander excused himself from their company and went in search of neo before the need for a fifth glass of - he didn't know, some sort of gin concoction sounded nice - something made its way into his grasp.
"ah, maybe it was a bad decision," he soon found himself telling the terrakion bartender -- how he ended back at the bar was anyone's guess. iskander stirred the contents of his fifth shot of alcohol, and turned back to the crowd. "it's silly to think that i could locate someone in this place. it's silly, to repeat myself. a masquerade has got to be the worst way to find someone. you can't see their faces and you can't identify them by scent." he wasn't a growlithe. even then, with alcohol and munna smoke in the air, even the best police growlithe would succumb to the atmosphere.
"ah, bad decisions." he slid the untouched glass back to the bartender. "sorry for the trouble. i need to find someone," said iskander, before moving back into the crowd. briefly, he wondered if neo would hold it against him for not showing up -- even though he perfectly did, just that he failed to locate her in a timely fashion.
iskander declined a dance -- and then it was three, citing his bandaged hand as an excuse. neither of them looked like neo. one was too tall, while the other sounded too stupidly intoxicated to actually be her. he did wonder if he was giving her too much credit, though; given the proper amount of alcohol, anyone could turn gullible and slip into a brief state of intoxication.
amidst a crowd switching partners for the next song, iskander found himself odd and out of place. he'd found himself in the nearby company of a lady in a beautifly mask (neo, but he had no idea), and declined yet another dance - the fifth, the voice in his head reminded him - "i can't, unfortunately. injured hand." he raised it, smiling behind his scizor mask of blood red and silvers.