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!
she didn't pick up on the silent pity fest -- or the fact that she had been compared to a dog in iskander's mind -- and instead glanced at her camerupt, who had long since gotten bored with the strange and settled comfortably on the ground. then back at the other agent.
cameron stared. "eltanin, are you okay." why was he offering to read to her and talk to her oh arceus she didn't normally get creeped out but iskander what are you doing --
"good, because i'm hungry," iskander said good-naturedly, and nodded at the other agent. he glanced around pal park, which, on scourge-free days, happened to be a good place for camping trips. people enjoyed pal park because of its peace; now it was a haunt for agents and agents only. he sauntered over to an empty barbecue grill, and peered into it.
"rapture can start a fire, i can get some food, and you can cook use some barbecued meat? i'll read you little red riding hood."
the camerupt snorted. he was not some sort of portable campfire, he was a large and very intimidating pokemon that deserved some respect around here.
of course, all cameron had to do was pet him and tell him he was a very great, very powerful camerupt and he obligingly snorted a flame into the grill.
just one. he still had his pride, you know.
cameron tended to the fire and wondered what 'red riding hood' was.
iskander went off to get his backpack, which was filled with a variety of books, and surprisingly, some slices of frozen meat. he passed the meat to cameron, trusted her with the food, and got the book. he flipped to the first page, and glanced at cameron.
he grinned at the camerupt. it eventually breathed fire into the grill, anyway. the camel was still pretty nice as a pokémon, scourged or otherwise. "alright, if you're ready, aster. i'll start reading when you are," he said happily, settling down comfortably on a stump.
cameron took the meat, readying the grill and preparing the food. a grunt from rapture told her the camerupt was hungry as well, and she tossed a slice of the uncooked meat at him. rapture huffed his thanks and chewed the snack.
"just read, eltanin." quite frankly, she was looking forward to the story -- and she could certainly grill edible, not-burned meat while listening. she wasn't cooking with her ears or anything.
iskander cleared his throat, made himself comfortable, and began to read. he was quite the storyteller; what lack of motivation he had in driving the scourge's ambition forwards was made up for in plentiful amounts by his ability to read from a book as good as a professional storyteller would. iskander was never cut out for work on the field; he was an intellectual, a researcher if eos had taken him in, a scientist if the scourge hadn't swallowed part of kohaku.
"once upon a time, there was a little girl whom her mother sewed her a beautiful red hood. she wore it everywhere she went, and from that, she was nicknamed little red riding hood. she had a grandmother who lived in the woods, and one day, little red riding hood found that she missed her grandmother terribly, and asked her mother if she could visit grandma this coming weekend, to which her mother agreed with a smile.
"on that day, her mother cooked some nice food and made sandwiches - i really prefer barbecued meat, though, little red riding hood hadn't any in her picnic basket - and sent her on her way. outside, the weather was good, sort of like spring - like this park, if you were curious - and nearing summer, and the flowers were pretty. she plucked one off the road and slipped it behind her ear, skipping as she went along."
cameron prodded the meat on the grill with the provided tongs, occasionally checking the other side, as she listened to the strange story. the woman kept a silent, running commentary in her head, the little girl's grandma was still alive? and why would the grandmother live in the woods -- did she live alone?
and why would red riding hood's mother let a little girl venture into the forest by herself?
... and why was she skipping and putting flowers in her hair? (this was a strange story.) pinching the meat, cameron spared a glance at iskander. "eltanin, what kind of story is this?"
"shh," iskander said, letting the book rest on his lap, then raised a finger to his lips. he looked straight at cameron; strange story or not, it made perfect sense to him.
it was no different from a child of ten being sent out into the region to collect badges and meet the champion in a battle. little red riding hood had her picnic basket of different food, that was a trainer and their variety of pokémon. the wolf that hounded her was battles, challenges that she had to face right up into the face of her grandmother, or in a trainer's case, the champion.
only when things got tough did someone show up to help. in a sense the hunter was like a legendary pokémon aiding the trainer to defeat evil so that she could challenge the champion. evil had consumed the land and removed the champion from his throne just like how the big bad wolf had ate little red riding hood's grandmother, and pretended to be her friend. the hunter came and changed all that, even changed little red riding hood's life.
but cameron didn't know this, did she? iskander knew, because he read, and found it remarkably similar to what people were going through as children. now, even as adults, they were fighting a big bad wolf. he didn't know if he was a wolf, or even a wolf cub -- he didn't want to be in the picture, after all. he wanted to be the one flipping the pages, reading the story to someone else.
an observer, then. he observed and helped those whom he needed in order to see the rest of the story unfold. that was his job, had been, since the beginning. they'd promised him a dream and he was to see if the dream became reality.
iskander continued reading the story as the meat sizzled on the grill; it smelt good, and would definitely taste good, he felt. the big bad wolf wouldn't have decided to eat grandma then, he joked, meat was better. way better than weak old bones and saggy skin, hahaha.
the woman rolled her eyes at iska -- a strangely ordinary expression on her normally stoic face -- before returning to the grill. the boy could do what he wanted, she supposed; if people really read stories such as those, there had to be some reason why. she simply listened to him, to the rise and fall of his oddly melodic voice.
when he finished, she simply nodded. "you're a good storyteller, eltanin."
then she lifted the finished meat off of the grill with the tongs -- before blinking. "no plates."
iskander beamed at cameron, expression much akin to a child being praised by his parent. "really?" he asked, closing the book and placing it where he once sat. he walked over to the grill and peered at the sizzling meat; it looked great, definitely tasted good, too. no plates, though; what a pity. he couldn't use his hands either -- he was reminded suddenly that they had no eating utensils, either.
"well, that's true," he admitted, rubbing the back of his head in thought. "wait here a bit?" iskander patted cameron on the shoulder and moved away in search of his mysterious location where he had obtained a variety of things. he soon returned with a cooler box in hand, the same one he brought along to his fishing trips across kohaku.
she was surprised by his bright smile, nodding in affirmation. cameron glanced at her camerupt as the boy walked away -- what else could she do? -- and the large pokemon huffed in amusement. if the other agent didn't return soon, cameron had the feeling rapture would snap up the meat in an instant.
iskander's return with the mysterious fourth-dimensional cooler box made cameron pause. (where did he -- no, it was better not to ask.) she used one hand to grab a plate, the other gently placing the meat on it. "here." the woman held it out to iskander before serving herself a piece.
she took a knife and fork, cutting half of the meat to toss into her camerupt's expectant mouth, and began to eat.
iskander sat down on the stump again, and cut himself a small piece of meat. as expected of cameron's cooking, it wasn't bad. it wasn't super good; it sure didn't taste as good as it smelt, but iskander was careful to keep his expression pleasant and his smile happy. "pretty good," he said, which wasn't a lie, "i could use some of these every friday." not every day, though. he wasn't sure if he could survive on that.
"can i have another?" iskander held out his plate, grinning at his fellow agent. rapture was still chewing the meat; he blinked as he watched the camel eat, and wondered why hyde didn't. maybe it was a difference in their body makeup. "please?" he turned back to cameron.
cameron hadn't expected anything more than 'passable' -- her food was made for function, not taste, and the woman wondered if she even knew the difference between good food and bad food -- but she supposed a 'pretty good' was a compliment.
... did every friday mean he was planning to have her cook and read her stories? "... that's fine." she supposed.
the agent silently placed another piece of meat on iskander's plate, slightly unnerved by his smile. there was (theoretically) nothing for her to fear from him, but there was something about his perpetual cheeriness that freaked her out.
iskander poked at the meat, chewing it. it was pretty good, but after a while, the texture started feeling more like jerky than it did real meat. iskander didn't complain, though. he continued eating the meat happily; food was still food, even if it started feeling more like dried condiments after a while. seriously, there had to be something wrong with the air around pal park.
maybe it was rapture's fault.
"every friday, really?" iskander said after a while, "i'd make you pinky promise me, but there's something weird about a man and a wo-man doing that."
