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 ranger had been left in a quiet, windowless room with soft charcoal carpeting and on a bed with homey cotten sheets. if it wasn't for the sense that something was off, one might almost think that this is a hotel room, not honest-to-arceus land of nightmares.
because where tamara had taken the ranger isn't a nightmare. she'd taken the girl through the portal into the land, and the virus is humming, quietly pleased as she leans against the wall and watches the girl sleep. she'd tried to make her as comfortable as possible with plenty of pillows and blankets, and she sighs. hopefully her guest won't be tempted to try and escape - there isn't a way out, anyway. not in this section of the castle.
theia is around somewhere, but tamara doesn't know where. the woman pushes off from the wall and leaves the room, leaving the door opened an inch or two so she'd hear when the girl woke up. but for now, she's at the balcony right outside the door, overlooking the lower regions of the castle, courtesy of the land. she smiles and rubs at the railing, and settles into wait.
Take the medicine Gulp it down Pinch your nose and grin on through it I know you can DO IT
sleeping beauty but twisted: pale face, red lips. eyelashes long; curled, eyelids brushed in deep lilac. powdery. nose-- a button, mouth-- a thread. pricked her pretty finger on a itty bitty spinning wheel collecting dust along the stone staircase. and then she was asleep, alone and forgotten forever. never to be found.
her eyes are closed, her brain resting, but she is not asleep. she's dreaming-- nightmaring rather. nightmares within nightmares. on a fancy bed in a room in a castle in a land in a nightmare in a warphole on a hill by a lake in a region in the world in the galaxy in the universe. she is a speck of dust, something to scrape off the bottom of your shoe.
AND THE WALLS KEPT TUMBLING DOWN IN THE CITY THAT WE LOVE GREAT CLOUDS ROLL OVER THE HILLS BRINGING DARKNESS FROM ABOVE
save me, o god, for the waters have come up to my neck. i sink in the miry depths, where there is no foothold. i have come up from deep waters; the floods engulf me. i am worn out calling for help; my throat is parched. my eyes fail, looking for my god. those who hate me without reason outnumber the hairs of my head; many are my enemies without cause, those who seek to destroy me. i am forced to restore what i did not steal. - psalm 69:1-4.
tamara blinks, coming to herself, alerted by the presence of sound that was not there before. her grim musings are pushed out of mind as she straightens, and theia finally appears, mouth bloody from whatever meat she'd fed on in her time away. with a sigh tamara asks for a handkerchief from the land and the land grants it, and the light red material is further stained with brown-red blood before she's carefully folding it and tucking it away into a nook in the hallway. the land would deal with it - it was resourceful like that.
with appearances set and helmet on, visor lowered, she enters the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click. theia is perched on her shoulder. a soft-looking chocolate brown armchair appears, and with a book conjured from the library tamara settles down to wait.
Take the medicine Gulp it down Pinch your nose and grin on through it I know you can DO IT
she's kissable. she's lovable. she's breakable. and she's been broken, but it doesn't mean she can't be broken any more. she's vulnerable. she's pliable. she's crushable. and she's been crushed.
tamara's presence wakes her-- but not literally. her body doesn't move. arms folded gently across her lap, head cocked on the pillow, legs straight. she's a princess. sleeping beauty: no. her body reads as "dead beauty." but she's neither dead nor beautiful. a ghostly vision floats out from her body, hair golden, eyes shining silver. clear as crystal.
AND THE WALLS KEPT TUMBLING DOWN IN THE CITY THAT WE LOVE GREAT CLOUDS ROLL OVER THE HILLS BRINGING DARKNESS FROM ABOVE
you think as you read. your mind wanders, away from this room, this land, this world. past, present, future, your mind wanders, and it's tiring. it's almost a relief when the vision appears.
tamara does not look up from her book when the ranger stirs, but theia does. the togekiss is not surprised - the land is known for its odd things - but at the sight of gold-spun hair and glowing silver eyes, she has to tug at her partner's hair. the agent looks up then, an eyebrow under her helmet raised.
her book snaps shut, a crisp sound in this soundless room. "you're awake, then? or is this a mere representation of you?"
Take the medicine Gulp it down Pinch your nose and grin on through it I know you can DO IT
arrow tip release, soaring through orange skies. this is war, this is war. arrow tip dig in, into it's skin. draw blood, draw blood. poison is in it's body, running through it's veins-- flowing, flowing to the heart and through the arteries. death is upon it, death is upon me.
her hair billows in a breeze of dense darkness. it rusts ever so slowly, red seeping into it like paint dripping down a wall. an eye flashes blue. the figure turns to tamara violently, her shoulders tense with the anxiety that comes from seeing only black for the very first time.
black? no, it's emptiness. her sight is as empty as she is. the figure panics but keeps the calm face. her fingers twitch.
"who are you." the voice comes out split-- the low growl of a threatening figure and the gentle plea of a loving mother.
AND THE WALLS KEPT TUMBLING DOWN IN THE CITY THAT WE LOVE GREAT CLOUDS ROLL OVER THE HILLS BRINGING DARKNESS FROM ABOVE
i'm not much of a poet, but someone once told me to seize the moment and don't squander it, to stop and smell the roses. voices inside my head, bated cold breath swirling lazily, as if it has all the time in the world. it doesn't. beggars can't be choosers.
there is a pause, in which the silence fills the room like a dense being. as if it holds life, is alive, as if it is conscious - as if it could move and choke. she ignore it with ease.
(it's what she's been doing her whole life.)
silence is shattered with three words. who is she, really? a relic from an age long past, the remnants of something best left forgotten? a broken woman? a strong one? her voice shows none of her self-consciousness, her hesitance. "answer my question, and i will answer yours. who are you?" it would be best to keep this simple. she does not know how this figure would pertain to the girl on the bed, after all. "what is your name?"
Take the medicine Gulp it down Pinch your nose and grin on through it I know you can DO IT
clock strikes twelve, out of the barracks. crawl through the grass, it's off to war young man. fight for your family, fight for your rights. just close your eyes to shoot if you must, no one likes to see the blood, huh. it's okay, just think of it as wine. they're all drenched in wine. drunk off their own fate.
the figure's eyes cannot focus on tamara. they're unmoving. lazy. just sitting in place, almost as if they're fake-- the glassy tone only supports the theory. she raises an arm and moves it swiftly in a dismissing motion, a look of mild disgust on her face. "take the helmet off." she can't see that tamara is wearing one, but the spirit remembers it from the gardens. it simply takes a gamble, pushing it's queen into enemy territory. it's a game of chess, black and white squares demented across the castle.
rhea's body shakes on the bed, her face clenched. this land brings panic, anxiety. this land brings fear and, in fact, it's lurking right outside the door, casting it's spell of terror. the incorporeal figure can account for that, she senses it.
AND THE WALLS KEPT TUMBLING DOWN IN THE CITY THAT WE LOVE GREAT CLOUDS ROLL OVER THE HILLS BRINGING DARKNESS FROM ABOVE
angels winging heav'nward, always heav'nward. tips of feathers tickling on the edge of senses, ephemeral and ethereal as always. hand out, poised to snatch a glimpse, a touch of white wings too pure for one with the virus - only to miss by a mile and fall into the pit. the virus hums.
she sounds... out of place. as if she is simply not... there. that would make sense, in some convoluted way, but...
but. her voice is glassy, her demand vague. even her gesture is aimed in the wrong direction. tamara raises an eyebrow and debates the goods and evils on humoring that demand. she hadn't expected her to be so confident in this place of nightmares, where she has no control - but that is the mark of fools, she supposes.
the body on the bed shakes, as if sensing the presence that tamara can feel like a splash of crisp, clear color in the black-and-white of the castle - it lurks just outside, waiting for... something. it is not her place to ask.
"and what would i gain by doing so?" she asks the woman, directly - not the shade. there is no reason for her to follow through requests given by her own... guest. "that way lies unpredictable outcomes."
Take the medicine Gulp it down Pinch your nose and grin on through it I know you can DO IT
imagine it-- deadly. imagine it--merciless. feeling the cold metal on your flesh, shivers running along your spine as the trigger is snatched, pulled away with force. you hear it at point blank, the high pitched scream in your ears. it's your own voice, your own call of terror as she flinch. but there's nothing. bullets of wind. empty, as always.
she comes to her dreams, swaddled in red and black. her eyes are pure jet, there is no light in them. it's only darkness, staring deep into your soul and it's desires. and when the monster reaches out, there is mother, there is father. both bloody and bruised, faces curled into sadistic smiles. and there is rose, withered and aging in pain. she's crying, but not water.
there is scarlet rolling out of her eyes slowly, dribbling across her face, staining her wrinkled skin. it's wine. rhea screeches in agony, her body making uncontrollable movements towards the old lady. and then she thrusts a knife, and everything is red.
it's blood.
--
the figure feels it too, a rumbling discomfort inside of her. it's not fear, it's terror though. she gulps.
"you gain nothing." she says quietly, her voice split into two as before. her hair billows and sways, as if blown by wind. "you gain nothing whether you remove it or not." it's a simple response that comes in a simple way. nonchalant. not polite nor rude. not quiet nor loud. and you'd think that would be the end of it.
but the ethereal figure shrieks out in agony right on cue, hair burning bronze. and for once, her eyes open-- they flash in a deep platinum. and there's emotion in her face. unadulterated fear.
it's gone in a moment. the figure returns to it's spot, silent. as if nothing has happened at all. nette
AND THE WALLS KEPT TUMBLING DOWN IN THE CITY THAT WE LOVE GREAT CLOUDS ROLL OVER THE HILLS BRINGING DARKNESS FROM ABOVE
nightmare: n. a bad dream that brings out strong feelings of fear, terror, distress, or anxiety. the dream may contain situations of danger, discomfort, psychological or physical terror.
what is a nightmare?
when the fear floods the room tamara has to close her eyes for a moment, settle her knees against the sudden wave. the virus inside her blood is positively humming, salivating at the pure terror that the girl holds. it finds it delicious, wanting nothing more than to sink its teeth into tender flesh and blood, spreading its wishes and succumbing another to the omniscent cause. she reins in that desire with difficulty.
a moment, two three - fill the silence, wait for it - and then there's a shriek as the figure screams in agony, her eyes finally flashing some color other than silver. tamara looks into her eyes through her visor.
"then i see no reason," she calmly replies, mirroring the shade's outward appearance of there nothing being wrong. even if it is merely a ruse. "i gain nothing; and yet you gain everything. hardly a fair trade, no?"
tamara pauses again. perhaps it is time to move things forward. she hadn't brought the ranger here for idle chitchat, after all. with a wave of her hand and a whisper to the land there is an armchair behind the shade, its back to the bed where the real body lies. hopefully that will bring the shade some comfort. "please, sit. we have much to discuss."
she steps backwards, shows her back in supreme confidence that the woman cannot hurt her here, and sits back into her own chair. theia hops off her shoulder and rests on the armchair, where tamara can comfortably scratch her head.
she waits.
eLFtcFrn <25 narcissa appears like the queen that she is
Take the medicine Gulp it down Pinch your nose and grin on through it I know you can DO IT
it's the feeling you get when you're writing with a pen. smooth, calming, circles, circles, loops, loops. it's the feeling you get when the cigarette touches your lips. familiar, calming. inhale, inhale, exhale, exhale. it's the feeling you get when the alcohol runs down your throat. delicious, calming. sip, sip, swallow, swallow.
it's the feeling she gets when she's alone, lonely, scary. thinking, thinking, crying, crying.
the figure rubs her eyes, eternally tired. she turns her head to tamara casually. she goes to sit, choosing the chair adjacent to tamara's. her hands struggle to find it, running over the wood of the small table and the cushions of the bed before settling on the chair. the figure lowers herself and folds her transparent arms over her lap.
"it's a win for neither of us.", she says, mostly civilized. "i cannot see you." the figure breathes. "i cannot see anything." but those words are lies, for she can see it. for the first time. red. black. it moves in stripes across the emptiness that she sees. the figure stands suddenly, her body tense. it senses the figure and it can see it's colors too.
it turns it's head with the light, keeping an eye on it as she attempts to reason with the mysterious figure. "show yourself." she demands. it's not "reasoning," it's an order rather. and such an order was the fatal mistake for this figure, as it's gone in a mere moment, it's body exploding in gold and silver.
all that's left in it's place are a pair of eyes, her eyes, with pupils and irises of silver.
but the darkrai listens to the spirit's demands. she arrives just as the other left, a swirl of darkness. it stares at tamara. "i see you've found yourself a playmate."
AND THE WALLS KEPT TUMBLING DOWN IN THE CITY THAT WE LOVE GREAT CLOUDS ROLL OVER THE HILLS BRINGING DARKNESS FROM ABOVE
"sweet dreams," / my parents would say before we went to bed. / if only. / for my dreams / we nightmares / grotesque, twisted monsters / would run after me / in a dimly-lit forest / only to have / a car come by suddenly / and run over me / causing my organs to burst / and blood to stain the ground. / they said, / "may your dreams come true!" / forgetting that / nightmares / were dreams too. - "alexis"
when the figure moves with obvious reluctance and hesitance, tamara pushes down the urge to get up and help. that is something that eleanor would do; there is no place for kindness like that here.
no place for kindness like that to eos.
"forgive me if i doubt," she remarks dryly instead. the girl has shown no signs of being truly blind, and for all she knew she could be an actress, waiting for the right time to escape.
she stays silent as the girl makes her demands to empty air. it suddenly strikes her that perhaps the ranger could sense it too. she doesn't dwell on whether or not it's possible - only the likelihood of the fact.
the land of nightmares plays dangerous games.
then suddenly, she is there. what space was empty is now occupied; dark presence flicks out in tendrils towards them all. theia on her perch gives an eyebrow-raise before a mock-bow; it is a testament to how powerful the scourge legendary truly is that she had garnered a reaction from the togekiss at all.
"narcissa," she states blandly, ignoring the screams of the girl on the bed. she is not her focus now. then, after a respectful pause and a curious tilt to the helmet and the head under the helmet - "i suppose you could say that. although my playmate isn't being much... fun, at the moment."
ugrWizTk <30 food/wine appears at narcissa's beckoning
the ranger had been left in a quiet, windowless room with soft charcoal carpeting and on a bed with homey cotten sheets. if it wasn't for the sense that something was off, one might almost think that this is a hotel room, not honest-to-arceus land of nightmares.
