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!
The nurses hadn't wanted him to leave, and for a while, Orwell had stayed at the hospital just because they'd asked him to. There was physical therapy to be done, psychiatric care, or perhaps they just wanted a nice, young man to carry their shit for them. He hadn't minded at first.
Then three months turned to four, and four into six, and now it was winter again. He'd had to leave--had to go fight the scourge, or seek some other meaning in life, beyond serving as pretty arm candy for pretty nurses.
Orwell stepped into the breeder's guild. The splendor didn't make him feel small or overwhelmed; it put him at ease. It reminded him of Hespera City, the only place in the world he could remember.
His footsteps were soft as he explored the guild, asking occasionally for directions to find Lady Mercedes. He was polite but not cordial. He had few words to say. It didn't take long for him to find Mercedes' office.
He knocked on the door as he entered, even though it'd already been open. "Madame?" He almost bowed, not sure if he should, and he settled for a slight incline. "I'm Orwell, from Hespera. Here to become a breeder."
her eyes stared at the space a few inches above the young man's head, before shifting down to meet his. she cocked her head, hummed lightly, then gestured for him to come closer. (so that she could look at him, see what bright eyes he had -- minor details worked better for breeders. she was no cypress.)
Orwell waited until Mercedes responded, and then he did what a good soldier did. He followed orders.
He stepped forward--no thought, no concern, no real reason either, besides that he was asked. Without the invitation, he might've loitered near the door forever, until he saw reason to go somewhere else in the building.
No one would ever call him bright-eyed or bushy-tailed, but his eyes were pale violet, like the flower, or icy blue in some lights. (He has no tail, bushy or otherwise.) (...Obviously.)
It took him a while before he responded. Orwell remembered nothing of his own past, but he remembered all sorts of unwanted trivia, including details about pokemon. He figured he must've played with a pokedex when he was a child.
"The dewgong," he says finally. "And quagsire."
Another moment passes, and he adds. "Thank you. You are too kind."
The nurses hadn't wanted him to leave, and for a while, Orwell had stayed at the hospital just because they'd asked him to. There was physical therapy to be done, psychiatric care, or perhaps they just wanted a nice, young man to carry their shit for them. He hadn't minded at first.
:sshedinja:
