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 Tower of Babel was a rooftop bar upon one of the priciest hotels in the city. It claimed it played host to people from all walks of life. In reality, they played host to anyone that could afford it, plus anyone pretty enough or with the right connections.
Turns out a vaccine counted as a connection. With scourge fear at an all time high, Neo bribed her way in. It had been a pretty high price to pay, all things considered, and for a moment, Neo wondered if there was a trainer out there that'd have made better use of the vaccine. She stopped wondering.
The view was worth the price of admittance. A hundred twenty floors up on a rooftop terrace, looking over the edge would've been terrifying if Neo weren't nigh fearless.
The highest building in Decima had been maybe five stories at most. Probably way less than that. The library had three floors and a basement, and she couldn't remember anything bigger than the library.
Feeling lonesome, Neo ordered a drink--the taste of which she didn't like, which was par for the course when it came to alcohol--and sipped it at the edge of the balcony. She spotted a bouncer watching her quite closely, likely afraid she would jump.
But she wouldn't. She just liked standing at the edge.
The bar wasn't tall. It wasn't very tall. It wasn't even incredibly tall.
It was more on the lines of really, really, really fucking tall -- beyond anything Delilah had ever encountered. (And she loved it.) It had taken a coy smile and a few bats of her sparkly eyelashes to get in, as it always did, and soon after Delilah found herself on the rooftop and looking out at the twinkling lights of the city that was barely home.
There was no fear of her falling over the edge and tumbling down, down, down; no, Delilah had no time for fear. Instead she spent her time doing stupid things and drinking away her doubts and -- and being a shitty sister, but the woman tried not to think about that.
Just take another swallow of the stuff in your hands and you'll forget about all of it, right?
Already vaguely tipsy (don't ask her how many she'd already had, Delilah probably wouldn't have been able to answer), she glanced at the woman beside her. "So. What're you up to, little miss with strange hair?"
She had a hand stuffed into a pocket, the other holding a martini glass with surprising good grace (she'd held red plastic cups a plenty, but that seemed like so long ago). When someone interrupted her solitude, Neo didn't really mind.
Her first thought regarding Delilah: Maybe she shouldn't stand too close to the edge.
"Waiting for drunk people to come by so I can push them off the side," Neo deadpanned.
She waited only a second--for comedic effect, because she still had a sense of humor--before she reached out to take Delilah gently by the arm, and guided her a few steps away from where the rooftop ended.
"Are you alone?" Neo asked, because a girl shouldn't be in a place like this. Hypocrisy at it's finest.
"Mmhmm," Neo said agreeably, still leading Delilah away from the precipice until she found a plush booth that was empty minus one unconscious fellow. The unconscious fellow was promptly deposited on the floor and kicked away. The booth was theirs now. Fuck the KO'd guy.
Out of habit (perhaps those red plastic cups weren't so long ago), she responded to the salute with her own martini glass and took a sip.
Neo wasn't as socially obtuse as the average researcher. This didn't mean she knew how to answer the wink with anything but a steady, unfaltering gaze. That was generally how she looked at everyone. She wondered if making eye contact was the Wrong Choice in this situation.
She downed the rest of the martini and set the glass down in the table.
Entirely too amused to resist Neo's pull, she followed the researcher. Delilah waved at a few of the less-drunk patrons, amusing herself with wantonly winking at whoever caught her eye. She found herself pulled into the booth -- and laughed as she kicked him out. "You're a harsh one, aren't you?"
The woman prodded the unconscious man with her foot before Neo roughly kicked him away from their booth. "Sorry, but we need some alone time." Taking a seat, Delilah reclined and regarded Neo with no small amount of interest; then she set her own drink down and moved to wrap her right arm around the woman.
"I'm Delilah Delacroix -- but please, just Delilah." The trainer grinned. "We're friends, after all!" (More like strangers, really, but she'd always been a bit too outgoing.)
She reached up to poke at Neo's hair. "So, Neo. Is your hair naturally this amazing?"
...She didn't think that was unnecessarily harsh. Don't fall unconscious in public, and you'll never get dumped out on your ass. Duh.
Neo looked at the arm that had somehow snuck its way around her. It was confusing. She didn't know what to do about it, besides maybe have another drink.
"Sure," Neo agreed to being friends. Why not? It sounded like a good idea. Friends were good. More friends were better. Friendlier friends were best. Friendliest friends were bestest friends. Yes. This was logic.
Logic was good.
Good was logic.
"I... used to curl it," she said, suddenly recalling mornings spent with a curling iron and late nights braiding her hair before she slept. "Seems like a waste of time now."
"Awesome." Delilah curled up against Neo like a giant Purrloin, kicking off her shoes and tucking her legs in beside her. She had half expected more resistance in her attempt to make 'friends,' but this was definitely okay too.
She tugged at Neo's hair again. "You should curl it more," she mused. "You already have the color going for you." Delilah ran her fingers through the green locks, grinning. "I think you'd look great."
Then the woman leaned her head on Neo's shoulder. This was comfortable.
Why didn't she do things like this more often? (Because she had a job to be doing and a world to be rescuing, but eeh. Minor details.)
Glancing at her drink on the table, and again lamenting the fact she couldn't grab it -- what with her only good hand currently stroking Neo's hair like she was some sort of stuffed animal -- Delilah sighed. "If you're going to get more, would you mind fetching one for me too?"
She let Delilah tug at her hair. It was nice hair. She liked her hair. She could've hacked it off at Pax, but she never did. Was that sentimental? Maybe it was just vain.
Okay, head on shoulder was--too close? She wasn't good at touching. Or feeling. Feeling was for other people. Like apparently for Delilah.
She wasn't sure she was okay with people touching her hair.
Actually, she was pretty sure she was. Empirical evidence stated that she didn't mind, considering that she was still sitting here, being petted. Or maybe she wasn't, because she seized the chance to stand up--slowly, so Delilah didn't fall, and also slowly so she didn't fall--to fetch more drinks.
"Yeah. Okay. Be back soon."
Stumbling a little (that table moved a bit, she swore), she knelt down to take the unconscious man's wallet, and then she proceeded to the bar.
She was, in fact, back soon, two tall glasses in hand.
Delilah pulled her arm back from around Neo, saluting the girl as she stood up (and wobbling a bit to regain her balance on the seat, now that her support was gone).
"Don't take too long!" she warned, wagging a finger. "It's not polite to keep a lady waiting." The woman pouted for a brief moment before bursting into laughter at Neo's casual acquisition of the man's wallet. "Ouch."
She watched Neo walk away, and downed the rest of her previous drink before stretching out to occupy the full length of the comfortable sofa like the world's largest Slowpoke.
Neo came back to a sleeping Delilah Delacroix. (Oops.)
Neo sat down next to the sleeping woman. She poked her once just to see if she'd wake easily, but no go. She probably poked too lightly.
Well, she had two drinks.
She didn't pay for them.
She could just leave them here.
...Nah.
Taking her time at, she sipped and then eventually drank one of the glasses empty. Half of the second was knocked back in one swift motion, but Neo stared at the rest.
This stuff tastes like shit.
She grabbed Delilah, hoisted her up onto her back, and started making her way to the door. "'Scuse. Sorry. Move."
In due time, she made it to the clear, glass elevator. Over a hundred stories to make it to ground floor, but in the meantime, Neo enjoyed the view. She also propped Delilah up in the corner because that girl was heavier than she looked. Probably all the booze adding extra weight.
Absentmindedly, Neo realized she still had the man's wallet.
The first thing Delilah said upon waking was, "Where's my drink?"
Then came, "Where am I?"
After that was, "... Oh. Hey there, Neo."
She rubbed her eyes with the back of her good hand, yawning widely. No, really -- where was her drink? Delilah had the pressing need for more alcohol in her system.
The woman found the corner of the box -- no, elevator? -- to be oddly comfortable, so she decided against standing up and instead sprawled on the floor. Fuck it if it was dirty, she doubted it would kill her. It wasn't like Delilah was going to have a make-out session with it, anyway.
Rolling onto her back, she stared up at the researcher. "How did you even get me in here?" Please don't say she was dragged across the ground.
"You were out. I drank ish--it. Ish. It. It." She paused, considering the weight of that statement. I bought u a drink, but i dranked it."Shorry."
Neo leaned against the elevator. The night sky was sho pretty. So pretty. Like, there were stars. Stars were pretty. Pretty shtars. Who hung that sky? Good work.
She noticed Delilah was talking again. Where were they, still the 50th floor or something? Thish might take a while.
Carefully, clearly, Neo replied, "Carried. Can get another drink elshwhere. Still got money. Still sh-standing too. You?"
The woman stifled a round of giggles. Hell, this girl was even worse off than she was. Delilah felt a vague wave of thanks that she didn't down whatever stuff Neo had brought back.
Rolling back and forth on the floor, Delilah smirked. "Well, that couldn't have been easy." She was pretty heavy, unfortunately. "I'm very proud of you."
She glanced at Neo then at Neo's mouth, raising an eyebrow at the slurred words. "Not standing, obviously, but I'm more coherent than you are."
Delilah slowly rose to her knees, swaying. "But since you still have money, want to go for another round?" Once they got out of that goddamned elevator, anyway.
"I am perfectly coherent. And I'm shtanding," Neo said. She blinked and wondered why she'd said that. It didn't need staying, it was obvious. She was perfectly coherent, you hear? Also, standing.
Except now anymore.
When Delilah made it to her knees, Neo decided now would be a great time to sit down. Plopping her ass down to the elevator floor, she swayed a grand total of once before her weight settled onto Delilah's side.
Hm.
"Comfy."
Neo closed her eyes.
"Sure. Let's go spend money somewhere elshe," she said drowsily.
