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's much too late to talk the knife out of their hands
The ballroom glitters, the live music plays, a demure server presses a glass of champagne into her hand, and Thalia hates all of them, herself included.
Gold-decked walls rise all around her, swooping curtains of velvet and silk, and she takes a sip of the champagne that no longer numbs anything. Her blood is different now, her cells metabolizing, regenerating, at a rate she couldn't understand or explain. She wasn't human. She knew that. It was a fact she'd always carried in her bones. Now it seemed her bones had carried the truth too long.
She smiled at the elaborate decor, the wasted money. None of her pokemon were out, though she saw some flashes of fur and scales through the shimmering crowds. They were battle-scarred pokemon, pokemon with blood on their claws and their fangs, and no one wanted to be reminded of that here. They wanted only delicacy. They wanted only the victory, and not the price paid. They didn't want any reminders of death.
More pity on them; Thalia was as deadly as any of her pokemon these days, as monstrous as any. But people expected violence from the salamence with his dragon's breath, not the petite girl in the long dress with her hair up.
She put aside the champagne flute on a table, and as she did so, caught the gaze of someone passing by a few feet away.
Deryn keeps to the sides of any groups of people, close enough to appear sociable, distant enough to not have to join in in the conversation. She’s only really here to check out the dresses. Oh, and something about a free egg. Apparently everyone who attends gets one – Deryn didn’t really need any information beyond the event being a formal one, so she hadn’t paid attention to the other details that were supposed to draw in attendees.
Maybe because it’s winter there aren’t many people wearing strapless dresses (good), although there are more than enough off the shoulder dresses to make up for that (okay, she guesses). But most disappointingly of all, most everyone has made a good job of making their dresses seem new which is only disappointing because her own dress is a year old.
It’s just as well the gala is full of strangers to her; strangers can’t point that out.
The dress watching gets boring and Deryn knows she needs a break. Food and drink seem like the most natural choice, and when she catches a woman putting down a glass of something she sidles up to her to ask if it’s any good.
Except she follows the woman’s gaze and ends up whoever the woman is looking at and says with a knowing smile, “I can watch your drink for you if you want to... go mingle.” There. That’s her good deed for the month.
cyril meant to be working here, but he wasn't about to refuse a glass of cider or two when he was offered. the nice thing about talking to tipsy people was that they didn't start feeling a little uneasy when cyril seemed a little too interested in what they were saying. their words weren't the things that made it into his articles. cyril only wanted a bit of direction.
there's only one kind of chance that cyril believes in, and it's the kind of chance that's on his side. if fortune didn't mean to smile upon him when he had caught the eye of a lady at the gala, then he'll just have to make her believe that she did.
the reporter blinks freely, but he does not look away. it's a public event, after all. cyril takes in every detail, from the champagne in her hand to her new companion in the red dress to the absence of a pokemon on her side.
what new directions they will point him in, he wonders.
it's much too late to talk the knife out of their hands
As the other woman speaks to her, the haze of green hair resolves itself into a man who is definitely not Neo, and Thalia smiles at him apologetically before turning away to face this new arrival.
"There's no need," she said. "I thought that I saw a friend; I didn't. Thank you very much for the offer."
While she talks, she looks at the other woman. She looks Thalia's own age, wearing a shorter red dress than Thalia's own floor-sweeping ensemble, with long curly blonde hair. She's beautiful, almost aristocratic looking, and Thalia has never seen her before. A breeder, maybe? She seems like she belongs here.
"My name is Thalia de Luca," she said. "I don't think we've ever met, although I presume you must be EOS if you're here. Are you a breeder?"
It doesn’t matter who the guy is – we’re all strangers here anyway. It’s a corny line and Deryn knows it, but she says it anyway. “Who’s to say he won’t end up being a friend.” The way she says that last word definitely implies something more than friendship. “And the poor guy’s on his own.” He clearly has no date (unless she was ‘powdering her nose’, but that can only make things interesting).
Deryn smiles at the man and tries to wave him over, not caring that there was apparently no need. “Oh no, I’m a trainer. Deryn Altar,” she answers, almost forgetting to do so. “Frankly, breeding is too boring for me.” She pauses for a second, and decides to add, “No offense if you’re a breeder, of course.
“Smile Thalia, I think your new friend might be coming over to say hi.” And if he wasn't Deryn was prepared to march the both of them over to him.
of course cyril was interested in saying hi. among other things. even if he'd rather be picking at the remains of juno hospital right now, that didn't mean that his evening shouldn't be productive.
he also happens to be privy to rather good hearing.
8F|_zvTY <50 heard of thalia de luca <50 heard of deryn altar
the names don't mean much to him. oh well, there's no time quite like the present to find out.
cyril makes his way to the trainer and flashes his professional smile. that didn't mean that it didn't contain a hint of warmth. "who would you say that i resembled?"
her, maybe. if she was among eos circles now, then...cyril can't say that he would be surprised. it was the fitting thing to do.
"charmed to meet you. my name is cyril neo."
he holds out his hand for the both of them to shake. first thalia, then deryn.
it's much too late to talk the knife out of their hands
"I'm a trainer as well," Thalia said offhand to Deryn as the green haired man made his way over. "The glamorous breeding life is not for me, I'm afraid."
She took Cyril's offer of a handshake, and then stepped back to examine him critically.
"I was going to say you resembled a friend of mine," she said. "But now I suspect there's a reason for that. You're related to the other Neo, I presume--Elle Neo?"
Neo had never mentioned having any family to her, but Neo was always from Decima. If she hadn't discussed her family, Thalia had assumed it was for the obvious reason that they'd all died. Like it felt half of Kohaku had died.
Well wasn’t that interesting. Deryn hasn’t really thought of breeding being a glamorous job, but she does suppose that they do make the most money…
Ten points to her; the man did come over after all. Even better, apparently he and the pink-haired trainer might have a connection. A relation, even. Deryn’s attention begins to wander after she politely shakes the man’s hand. Getting them to talk had been too easy. The mention of hair colour briefly brings back her attention, if only to inspect the hair in question.
Light green, huh? Deryn couldn’t make a call whether it was natural or dyed, but she could say the same of the trainer and pointed this out. “Asks the girl with pink hair.”
Change the pink to red and the shade of the green and their hair would be the colour of Christmas.
by this time, cyril had already met leonida, although the thread had not been resolved yet. "if you mean my sister, then yes." cyril supposes that it was only likely that the women would know each other when recruitment numbers were low and the casualties piled up. "it sounds like she has an enviable network among eos."
he chuckles lightly when thalia asks about his hair. "she makes a good point. i cannot speak for you, but my hair is natural. i suspect that leonida's hair is natural as well." it isn't really a funny joke, but standards have fallen since the scourge brought doom and gloom to kohaku.
"i know that we have only just met, but would you ladies care to do me a favor?" cyril takes a brown pad out from his pocket. "i am a writer for the kohaku reporter, and i am quite interested in this 'unglamorous' trainer life of yours" 2tsunz
it's much too late to talk the knife out of their hands
"I can confirm my hair color is definitely unnatural," Thalia said. "As for your sister, she's the premier EOS researcher. Her network only befits the work she's done, I imagine. You should be proud of her."
She arched an eyebrow when he took out a pad and explained his career. She hadn't expected a relative of Neo's to be in the humanities. Perhaps it was because Neo seemed so clinically science-y. She was also rather certain she had never said that the training life was unglamorous.
What a plot twist. Natural meets unnatural. Deryn immediately starts to inspect Thalia’s hair now, scanning for any hints of roots showing. It’s a silly reaction, really, she thinks, since there is no way anyone would come to an event like this without touching up their roots first.
The request is a surprising one and Deryn is pretty certain that she has nothing interesting to say about the life of a trainer, largely because she went out of her way to avoid all the ‘interesting’ bits. She looks to Thalia and decides that the best way out of this is to follow her lead. With any luck Thalia will know exactly what to say.
“Well, if that’s the kind of thing your readers are interested in, please, go ahead.”
"i imagine that she must be." cyril imagines nothing. he had been to the kohaku university branch in nerio. he had seen what she had risen to.
thalia had contrasted her own career to the glamorous life of a breeder, and the words were only an opening to his request anyway.
"i am thankful for the opportunity." an easy smile. "please tell me a little about where you came from. your beginnings, if you will." maybe it would be an easy lead in. maybe it would be something more. something that links him to the other threads that he has collected. cyril does not know, but he intends to find out. "perhaps one of you would like to volunteer to go first?" 2tsunz
it's much too late to talk the knife out of their hands
Thalia was beginning to wish she hadn't put her champagne flute down. Not that drinking had an effect on her anymore, but she wanted something to hold for this conversation.
Maybe if she was lucky, J would show up with drinks. She doubted it though.
"I'm from Bacchus," she volunteered. "I had a very typical trainer upbringing, I'm afraid. I traveled through Kanto and Johto for badges, and I returned here when the scourge hit."
Deryn is grateful that Thalia went first; she doesn’t know how much ‘a little’ is supposed to be and needs something to go by. Her eyebrows raise when Thalia mentions where she’s from. “You’re from Bacchus? No wonder you joined EOS.” The words come out without any thought behind them.
Her turn. “I’m from Sol City.”
…
That was it. No previous travelling or battling experience or anything interesting like that.
to thalia: "interesting. how long did you stay in other regions? do you consider kohaku to be your true home?" cyril is pretty sure that kanto or johto would have treated her better. less murderous scourge about.
to deryn:
"what prompted you to leave its sunny shores, then?" there's genuine interest there. the scourge hadn't advanced that quickly. there wasn't even an immediate need for cura village to take up arms. sol city had the advantage of a desert and a mountain. 2tsunz
cyril meant to be working here, but he wasn't about to refuse a glass of cider or two when he was offered. the nice thing about talking to tipsy people was that they didn't start feeling a little uneasy when cyril seemed a little too interested in what they were saying. their words weren't the things that made it into his articles. cyril only wanted a bit of direction. 
