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 castle is empty. It's often empty, nowadays, and perhaps that in itself is a blessing, of sorts. The quiet that comes as a result is reason for him to stray outside of the library, gain a better understanding of this enigma that has confounded him since he learned of its existence, long ago.
There is a pantry and refrigerator in the kitchen. After a long, fruitless endeavor at the library of lost things he chooses to stay rather than return to the real world, the ugly world that blackens into shadows darker than anything the land of nightmares can conjure up. Cooking is something of a foreign aspect to him - he remembers mother and father, busy as they were, days of takeout and leftovers and table scraps, something that was nothing less than routine. He grabs mystery meat, bread, molds them into something of a sandwich and takes the meal out into the dining room, staring at the black furniture, red curtains that stain the room in a glow of the same color.
A candle sits at the center of the table. He blinks, and it flickers to life, casting the table in a dull, yellow glow. Ethan sits, leans back, chews at the corner of his sandwich and stares at the candle while thinking about questions that may be better left unanswered.
(And just because they are - even if they are - , it doesn't mean that he doesn't still want to know.)
it's rare that physis would come to the land through the rift, these days. tonight, she does not arrive of her own volition.
physis grows ever more convinced that if there is an ending to their story, it will not be inside of the dream world. it will be in kohaku, where all tangible stories are written. she will admit that her faith in the land of nightmares has not changed, but her interest in the beginning certainly has. perhaps this is... this is the beginning, for the end had already come and passed at pax institute.
she wanders the halls aimlessly for awhile before realizing that she is en route to the kitchens. someone else's domain. the agent's expression is slightly scrunched in irritation before she realizes that a shorter boy sits at a dining table, eating something that batin would never even consider food.
the sight pleases her. not everyone in castle forlorn had to be a food elitist. ah, it's ethan. a nice boy who doesn't tempt physis into summoning a batch of pies onto his face. people like that were always a welcome sight.
she passes him on her way to the fridge. physis opens it to find shit that one might find out of an executive chef's supply. fucking fuck, that's fresh quilfish, and not just a dried imitation.
well, fuck that.
physis opens the fridge and signals for the mamoswine to come in. she takes out half of batin's fancy-schmancy, hard-to-find ingredients and feeds them to the scourge mamoswine who wouldn't even be able to tell the difference between a sheaf of wheat and a live lumineon. scourge taste buds, you know.
when phillip is satisfied, she takes out a red bean bun herself and chews on it slowly. not bad, even she will have to admit.
The candles flicker with light that is both bright and shadowed at the same time. The heat creates a mirage that hovers about the table like a specter, and he feels like it tries to tell him things that he can't see, despite them being right in front of his eyes.
It's a sight that hits too close to home for comfort. And as Ethan's stomach curls and flips itself into knots, Aiden remains unbothered enough to continue eating without so much of a wince. He stares at the candle, at one of the many signs of life that this land displays and wonders -- why? Why bother with the trivialities of guests that are, essentially, at its mercy every time they enter? Preference, perhaps. He recalls a girl with blonde-ish hair and grins cheekily through his teeth.
The castle is empty. It's not empty for long, this time, and when the dim candlelight bends to one side as a figure sweeps past him, he knows he's no longer alone. Ethan looks up, surprise lighting up in his eyes because it's someone he remembers, recognizes and likes well enough to bypass the barrier of simple 'allies bound by the same cause'. He sits up and follows two steps behind her as the candle dims and eventually fades away, leaving nothing but the natural, blood-red light of the outside to penetrate inside.
Physis. It's a name that's difficult to forget, though he's barely heard it twice, at most. And he's always felt that the connection she has with her scourge partner - and perhaps, the virus itself - is something so attuned that it's worth looking up to, in all its sophistication. Seeing someone like her feeding a mamoswine something distinctly too high class to be called 'food' is both funny and unnerving at the same time - Aiden covers his mouth to stifle the laugh that he opts for, as opposed to the scowl of jealousy that Ethan simply cannot contain at the sight of something so human. When the mamoswine is finished, he approaches her, nibbling on his sandwich. Azazel is nowhere in sight, but he feels its presence wreathing around the room like a curse.
"Hi!" He hopes she hasn't forgotten about him. "I don't think we've ever met up here, before. Are you here for a visit?"
