SAVIOR.

💭!! @avacynthia

"WHEN  I  SAID  THE  DREAM  IS  OLD...  WHAT  I  MEANT  IS  THAT  THIS  DREAM  IS  OLDER  THAN  YOU.  THREADS  OF  IT  DO  NOT  BELONG  TO  YOU  AT  ALL.  THEY  SPAN  BACK  EONS.  THIS  CANNOT  BE  YOUR  DREAM  ALONE.  THIS  MADNESS  THAT  CONSUMES  YOU  IS  NOT  ONLY  YOUR  OWN.  ENTANGLED  IN  SOMETHING  FROM  THE  FAR  PAST.  YOU  ARE  IN  A  PRECARIOUS  SITUATION,  CHILD  OF  MAN.

FOR  YOUR  DREAM  IS  AN  OMEN.  THE  LIGHT  I  SAW  IS  NOT  MEANT  FOR  MY  EYE.  NOR  IS  IT  FOR  YOURS.  NEITHER  OF  US  SHOULD  EVER  APPROACH  IT.  IT  WILL  REVEAL  ITSELF  WHEN  IT  WILLS  IT;  AND  IF  IT  NEVER  WILL  SO  BE  IT.  BUT  TO  APPROACH  EVEN  A  BURIED  MEMORY  OF  THE  ORIGINAL  ONE  BRAZENLY  WILL  LEAD  TO  CALAMITY  FOR  YOURSELF.

Day 1: Deja Vu

ORIGINS.

Late 30s currently. Born in CASTELIA before moving to Sinnoh in her teens, settling down in JUBILIFE. Her father found high-ranking work with the Poketch Company and her mother (a Sinnohan native) worked as a teacher at the local Trainers' School.

Always industrious and super-organized, Fumiko was working as the lead office coordinator for JUBILIFE TV when she caught Cynthia's eye. Cynthia had just earned the champion title and, despite her natural confidence, was definitely already in over her head when she came in for an interview. After seeing how Fumiko ran the station with unmatched hyper-efficiency, Cynthia basically begged to hire her on the spot. (Literally on her hands and knees. It's leverage that Fumiko will always have over the champion.)

The rest is history. All these years later, Fumiko helps coordinate Cynthia's exhausting schedule, sorts mail, fields calls, and ensures that everything is in order regarding the champion's affairs. She runs the tightest ship around, and is a major reason while the Sinnoh League is as well-maintained as it is.

TIDBITS.

"Aah, so that's where you took off to. Funnily enough, Shauntal and I visited the region a few months back; their library is truly a sight to behold, and as you said, it is far bigger than Canalave." It occurred to him that Cynthia didn't know he had been taking vacations in her absence, namely due to his girlfriend's influence.

They had some catching up to do.

"You will be happy to know that, after all this time, I will not need as much convincing to take a vacation. Bertha has agreed to look after things should I ever decide to travel, so I can rest easy."

"my, my. you actually took an unprompted vacation? maybe things really have changed after all," cynthia grins, placing a dramatic hand over her heart. "well, excellent. remind me to thank shauntal again for her heavensent influence on you and your work-life balance. her latest novel was an absolute treat, by the way--I was reading it on the plane in between brainstorming wedding venues for you two." (she can't help herself--cynthia loves wedding planning almost as much as she loves love itself.)

with a wink, sinnoh's paragon pads around the office, making idle adjustments to busy her hands (consolidating the waiting heap of unopened mail, turning the monstera slightly towards the window.) the grind can wait. she wants to chat some more.

He  answers  with:  "ＴＨＩＳ　ＮＩＧＨＴＭＡＲＥ　ＩＳ　ＩＲＲＥＧＵＬＡＲ．"   Yes,  he'd  been  searching  and  this  is  what  he  found.  Drawn  to  it  for  its  nature.  There's  a  dome  of  stars  above,  a  stillness  and  a  peace  that  could  not  be  further  from  his  domain.  She  herself  could  acknowledge  this  as  a  nightmare,  exhibiting  a  self-awareness  that  the  ordinary  dreamer  couldn't.  Not  just  the  dreamscape  itself  tries  to  keep  a  secret,  but  so  does  she.  Secrets.  Discovery.  Is  that  the  core  of  it?  He  could  start  to  sense  a  red  thread  just  by  idly  dipping  into  the  most  surface-layer  of  this  subconscious.  ( a faint glow to his claw ) And  everywhere  was  that  hunger.

cynthia hums, tilting her head as she chews on darkrai's words. the champion rises to her feet, heeled shoes crunching on the grassy ledge as she gazes out over the quiet celestic town-dreamscape. a soft, guilty laugh escapes her lips. "you see past my façade that easily, hm? I suppose that nothing escapes your gaze in this realm."

cynthia straightens up, looking almost proud. "this dream, this setting, is mine. I built it myself, after years of training with sleep professors. you see, I used to have terrible nightmares--awful, gnawing thoughts--but through the training, I learned strategies. grounding. compartmentalization. control."

"Of course not. If I were to do that, Bertha and I would be drowning in work." He left out Aaron and Flint on purpose because he knew neither would step up to do the paperwork.

"...well, thank you, lucian." the teasing glint hasn't left cynthia's silvery eyes as she tilts her head towards him, sighing lightly. "and don't worry. soon enough, I'll be stomping around the league halls like I usually do. nice and loud."

she winks, leaning casually against her oaken desktop. "paldea was wonderful, so wonderful, but it's good to finally be back home and done traveling for the winter. did you know that they have a massive library there? it's even bigger than canalave, if you can believe that. you'll have to visit sometime, if I can ever convince you to take a vacation..."

cynthia laughs at her own joke (why not?) and glances around once more. it's quiet. almost too quiet. she fixes lucian with that all-knowing, twinkling look.

Admonition Angel (Secret Lair Drop) - Anato Finnstark

young (~pokemon journey age) cyrus and cynthia in hisui au

Cynthia of course wants to go home but oh, these ruins are in so much better shape than in the present, she has to transcribe this...!

( where do you see that? )

they close their eyes, a burn behind the bridge of their nose something that rises through sinuses warms, unpleasantly, beneath their eyes. they feel like they're suffocating as they try to swallow down the immediate denial which flares inside them. their own perspective offers nothing but harsh skepticism of the champion's words, a nauseating disgust with their current existence making them feel as though they could sway & fall over where they sat. lips part & their breath's strained through their teeth, sucking in air with a quiet hiss against the sensation two notches of intensity short from making them gag -- it makes grusha open their eyes once more, so they can no longer swim in the blackness behind their eyelids / instead find something real & physical to focus their gaze upon.

much like they had to do, to maintain their balance when they stood without grabbing hold of something.

cynthia's gesture prompts a blink, and their line of sight shifts back toward her body; it takes a moment for the accompanying words to process through the mud in their mind. on one hand: they don't want anyone near them without some form of a barrier. they can't bear the thought of someone seeing, more intimately than in concept & from a physical distance, how incomplete they are...

their mother had seen, that time they wheeled themselves to sit before the fire… and she left the room, in response. that told grusha all they needed to know about how they appeared.

… but on the other hand: they know cynthia will continue to worry for them if they don't permit her this closeness. those tears better-shed for someone else could fall, once more, due to their actions.

( i'm already burdening her… ) the thought floats through their consciousness without distinct form or coherence, but all the same the notion is understood easily. though the champion offers her shoulder, grusha clings all the more tightly to the weight that makes each beat of their heart feel like it bruises their ribs ( … i shouldn't make it worse. )

grusha moves: slowly, the injured hand is lifted from the table & turned over, palm-up. the blooms of broken blood vessels which had crushed alongside bone continue well onto their palm & unafflicted fingers, and beneath their pinky even extend beyond where the cuff of their sweatshirt sits 'round their wrist. ( yikes. ) they look to cetoddle on their left, and once the small whale perks up upon meeting their gaze, grusha's head tilts / gestures to their right. the pokemon moves readily, coming 'round the back of the wheelchair & all but bumping his rostrum against the wheel as he wedged himself as close as possible to his trainer. a quiet click-whistle permeates.

grusha may maintain a cold exterior, yet their wound betrays that internal, ugly maelstrom of dark thoughts roiling inside of them. the burst vessels merely serve as exit wounds for the inner turmoil that had finally splashed over into the real, leaving behind a gruesome legacy in their wake.

cynthia approaches carefully, patiently, as she would with a wounded starly. a thick throw blanket, woven with little designs of shieldon and cranidos, is plucked from the couch. the champion bows her head slightly, heading respectfully out into the metaphorical blizzard. she would be here for as long as they needed.

the champion sits on grusha's left as instructed, sliding a chair in close. with cetoddle's help, she sets the large blanket over their laps to start, her gaze flicking up towards the self-inflicted injury again, that mess of delicate bone, her initial splint only managing to mask the surface of grusha's hurt... (she knows now that they still hurt everywhere.)

something inside cynthia aches terribly, and her own fingers feather at her chest, steadying. deep breath, inhale, exhale. she doesn't pull away. and, even with her heart aching to fix, to mend...she resists. cynthia just allows herself to exist, ceding control of this poignant, delicate moment to grusha. inhale. exhale. you don't need to be sorry, grusha.

her on one side. cetoddle on the other. they would both wait, for however long it takes for this flare to subside, the intensity of the storm to die down. bandages, words of comfort...all ring hollow in moments like these.

“the stars are kind tonight. perhaps that is why we meet.” @avacynthia

Leave  it  to  mankind  to  attribute  kindness  to  the  celestial.  The  stars  appeared  to  shine  brighter  on  moonless  nights,  with  nothing  to  steal  away  from  them,  yet  few  would  consider  it  kind  of  the  ones  above  to  have  an  encounter  with  him.  The  blonde  held  eye-contact  with  a  determination  that  convinced  the  dark-type  that  she  was  used  to  facing  the  impossible.  Not  in  need  to  capture  him  or  whatever  trains  of  thoughts  departed  in  the  heads  of  most  humans  when  they  saw  him.  Not  a  show  of  fear  either.  Just  curiosity,  unbridled,  dephtless  curiosity.  A  hunger,  almost.  For  Suffering?  Forbidden  knowledge?  Even  death?  If  not  for  power,  than  that  is  all  he  had  to  offer.  Darkrai's  form  stayed  half-emerged,  unmoving  save  for  the  swaying  white  plume  in  the  chilly  night  air.

cynthia is no stranger to dreams. intense visions have besieged her since childhood, carrying fragmented memories of teatime and pleasant conversation with a melancholy stranger. and, on the other turn of the coin, she's endured nightmares ruling over a ruined land with divinity coursing through her veins, speaking in a cruel voice that isn't hers, deaf to the cries of her people below.

The place/role of traditions, myths and histories in a modernized, capitalistic world.

Determining one's own destiny, or (unknowingly) following the paths of ancestors.

Redemption, and learning to let go of those who are past saving.

Deification, and resisting the temptations that accompany it.

Wearing a public face while hiding one's true self.

it wasn't often silver reached out to people, that much goes without saying and with a pointed recall to his past tendencies. but, every now and then the situation would call for him to do so, like a very yearning he can't deny or simply forego. this was undoubtedly one of those situations ; something so profound that a mere 'thank you' simply can't suffice here, and he's all too aware of that. it's there that silver's hit with the poignant realization that he did very much so have @avacynthia's number, and was fully under agreement uttered by them both that they would keep in touch following the gala they had met in.

and so this was very much so within reason to connect that bridge / uphold a promise made a year ago, something to quell the churning of anxieties that simply came as a pair with the concept of talking so someone so ... important.

it was worth it, silver could admit to that much. and if he could get by with years of interacting with steven, cynthia surely wouldn't be as foreign as a potential acquaintance.

[ sms ] I hope I'm sending this at a proper enough time for you.

he pauses, fingers hovering above the glass screen, mind puzzling together sentences as if each and every phrase was in the proper formalities. what would she expect, who does he need to be to her - ?

[ sms ] This is Silver. I had been there when Grusha opened up their gift from you, and I thought it had been about time that I reached out to you, Cynthia. [ sms ] I want to say something from the bottom of my heart, that I... might otherwise be not keen on talking about if it had been any other kind of situation, or time. [ sms ] I want to thank you for just what you did -- though most certainly on what you sent, also. It meant a lot to the both of us that you remembered them -- though, I suppose it's natural when you two had a big impact on each other.

silver winces his cringe at himself / the awkwardness he feels with expressing such inner thought towards someone he himself didn't know. but, a degree of relief is to be found within the time spent interacting with aforementioned wanderer and his champion to follow. it made it less daunting a task, at the very least.

[ sms ] Regardless... I sincerely appreciate your care and consideration, and though I've said it before, I want to reiterate my earnest gratitude on everything you've done for Grusha. If you ever find yourself in Paldea or wanting to travel here for a visit, I'd be honored to have you. I know they'd also love to see you again, even if they haven't said it aloud. [ sms ] Just... don't be a stranger. I will try my very best to do the same.

... ... ...

[ sms ] And, if we both manage to convince Grusha to go back out to Sinnoh for a little while, I'd absolutely love to see Floaroma. I've heard it's gorgeous... I'd love to take pictures, maybe create some paintings on it. [ sms ] Personally, I'd also really like to see Sinnoh in its entirety. I will admit I have questions of my own, but I'll stay them as to not light up your phone endlessly right off of the Zubat.

the gala seems like a lifetime ago. and yet, cynthia can still recall silver's shy approach, that sharp ensemble of blue and black, the firm (gloved) handshake sealing their warm conversation with a promise. keep in touch. (naturally, it had been cynthia who had insisted.)