kleenex [event]

[CAEDMON]

he's heard the lore about the legendary bosch. all-knowing, they say. powerful, they say. give him a soda pop and he'll talk supposedly-- he might even give you a little trinket, if you play your cards right. elias stood at the base of the tower; chilled to the bone.

bosch would come around eventually, right? elias was told he spent most of his time here, drinking soda pop. he'd look for a pokemon if he knew what any of bosch's were. more lore: he had dozens of pokemon at the ready, apparently.

elias pulled a soda pop out of his pocket and looked for the legendary bosch.
@mod

[citrus]

Bosch is not a legend - he's just seen things, too many things in his lifetime that have no need to be seen. Humans die. He lives on. It's a nasty side effect, dying, but it's a side effect of being human, something that he's not.

(Sometimes he wonders if that's a good thing, frozen while the world around him keeps on revolving, evolving. The new world seems different from the old, in an artificial sort of way, as everything now often is.)

"A visitor?" He sits down next to Elias, the mask glinting in the dim lighting of a sun he's seen too many times to count. Bosch does not stare. Humans, like everything else, grow less interesting with time, and he's had all the time in the world to grow used to their ever changing presence.

CAEDMON

[CAEDMON]

if he's been living for hundreds of years, has seen all...what is unlegendary about him? bosch's knowledge surely must extend to every corner of the earth by now, right?

elias had since dozed off waiting for bosch-- his mind was somewhere else. in proserpina, most likely, thinking of the schools and high class tennis courts and country clubs in the outskirts that he used to know. he awakes slowly as bosch sits next to him, staring at the masked man next to him. he isn't startled.

slowly, he extends an arm, offering a soda pop to bosch. "i heard you liked these."
citrus

[citrus]

And how are legends born, anyways? Bosch's knowledge is only the result of countless visitors imparting their wisdom into one, collective mass. He's seen things, many things, given time, reflected and learned from them. The words of the people are what make legends. Bosch himself does not accept the title - resents it, almost. He's just a man(?) that's seen much, collects it all within himself and imparts it onto others. A dictionary, perhaps. Not a legend.

Slowly, Bosch turns towards Elias - in a way, it very much resembles a robot, the movement fluid but in a way that's not quite human. These visitors are becoming well informed, and it's settling - saves the trouble of turning them away, especially since visitors are sparse, and he always feels a pang of something strange whenever one of them takes an early leave.

"I take an interest in them." He takes the bottle from the trainer's hand as if it were made of fine glass, nodding as way of thanks. No matter how many times the liquid hits his throat, it's always the most fascinating sensation. Never mind the fact that he's had numerous tastes of them. Every one always manages to feel like the first, of many.

He does not open his mouth. The mouth of the bottle touches his mask, and the soda drains briefly before he tilts it away. "What is it you wish to know?"

CAEDMON

[CAEDMON]

elias doesn't get many "visitors" either, he's ignored these days. everyone has their own thing to do, but some people (like him) are still quite dependent on others to advise him the best way. what does he do? when does he do it? the pathways are twisted and flipped on over themselves, leaving a maze of tasks and riddles to be solved. he gets confused.

elias pulls out a lemonade of his own and starts drinking, watching bosch. he's oddly stiff. robotic almost. elias ignores it though-- it's rude to think about people like that behind their backs. he swallows some lemonade, staring off at the sun.

"there's a virus that's sweeping the region," he begins, putting together the sentence as he goes, "and i don't no where it comes from." elias tilts his head; looks at bosch. "there's artifacts, landmarks, shrines all over kohaku," he raises his eyebrows, "and i don't know the purpose they serve."

"so why don't you choose-- tell me something. anything."
citrus

[citrus]

For a moment - and only a moment - Bosch falls silent, staring out into the distance at nothing in particular. He takes a long drag of the soda pop, then chuckles quietly, the sound seeping through the various cracks in his mask, echoing off the metal that neither rusts not dents. It's neither quiet nor loud - pleasant or unpleasant, the sound is up to interpretation and interpretation alone.

"The virus. I suppose I should thank it, to some extent. This tower wasn't nearly as lively before it came into existence. I find it interesting that you ask of its origins, rather than how to stop it." It's rare - not a first, there have been those before him - to hear, makes his eyes gleam in the depths of his mask.

"I have heard much about the virus, but no more than the eos could know. What have they told you about it? That it was crafted out of greed? A consequence that - some may argue - was rightfully deserved?"

CAEDMON

[CAEDMON]

elias deems it pleasant-- it's warm laughter. inviting. a sort of laughter he used to know: when he closes his eyes and thinks hard, remembers back as far as he can...he can still hear it. mom and dad in the kitchen, in the car. just the far off sounds of laughter, the far off memories of smiles. he joins in the laughter, although he doesn't quite understand why they're laughing at all.

how to stop it? in truth, elias would like to know, he just didn't think to ask that. he rubs his eyes. "it was actually going to be my follow up question." he says, chuckling. "but it doesn't seem like a question that you have the answer to." he raises his eyebrows and sighs. "but i don't blame you. no one else does either." he rests his forehead on his palm, thinking.

"they told me nothing." he shrugs. "of course, i didn't find out everything by myself." he goes silent, considering things. "i didn't really find out anything by myself-- people helped me." elias sighs, clearly he is not happy that this is the case. "for some reason, i. didn't end up as strong or independent as i'd hoped." he cracks a knuckle, and starts to put on his non chalant act yet again, staring at the sun through the columns of rock.

"were you ever a trainer?"
citrus

[citrus]

It can be said, perhaps, with a certain amount of confidence, that Bosch finds Elias interesting. The one thing that no amount of knowledge can prepare him for is the evolution of the younger generation - human nature, rather - that passes him by, decades upon centuries as they blur into an incoherent sense of time. "That knowledge escapes me, I'm afraid. Rather unfortunate." No researcher has visited in quite awhile. There is no other way for information to reach him, for bosch would rather not probe on his own.

"Strength and independence aren't necessarily one and the same. The virus, for example." He takes a sip of the soda pop, pausing briefly. "Undoubtedly the work of those trying to stop it - humans. They sought strength in creating the virus, and the result we see now is only the consequence. You've passed through lake pax? Or what's left of it, anyways. Did you find any answers in that place?" He's surprised about the lack of information eos provides, but it's only to be expected, given what they've done. "They hide this from you out of shame, not distrust. Nobody likes to admit their failures." Bosch's voice does not fluctuate toward any dramatic emotions. It's a monotone that only reverberates into thin air a few seconds after the words are spoken.

"I may have been, in the past." Truthfully, he doesn't quite remember. "But certainly not now. I exist to pass on information. If my name does not circulate, I become forgotten."

"You're the trainer." It's not a question.

CAEDMON