âSometimes, I like to go and look at posts of people impersonating me just to see if theyâre doing me any justice.â

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we're not kids anymore.
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@baddragon241
âSometimes, I like to go and look at posts of people impersonating me just to see if theyâre doing me any justice.â

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cottonthumbâ:
âŚâAs most are like to be.â The response was nearly instantaneous; Milo was no fool as not to realize that most magic users are learned in the means of its power. Such aspects are even more pronounced in times like these where nations strike at each other mercilessly for some reason or another.Â
War was a cruel madam who awarded no victors.
Raihan continued to pose his questions, leaning worryingly close. Now, they may have struck a tentative truce, but Milo was far from comfortable with the direction of this exchange. He leaned as far back as he could, the blazing of his aching side gone ignored for a while longer. Miloâs lips pursed shut as his mind tried to slowly formulate a good response- Just then he felt something from the roots of their improvised tree. A steadiness that wasnât there before.
He twisted enough to glance over his shoulder. Things seemed still. âT-The landslide,â He began, voice faltering slightly. âItâs stopped. We should be safe to get down, but the earthâs soft and hard to navigate. Iâd wager a heavy enemy would sink up toâŚâ Thereâs a pause. Milo frowns. He turns to examine Raihan, entirely silent for an instance. â⌠your waist. My chest.â Ah, height discrepancies.
âYour spear,â The geomancer continued, hoping to keep the topic at hand. âItâs been carried, but lodged into something before being taken too far. Itâs about fifty strides south of hereâ The creaking of wood groaned softly in the backdrop of this conversation. Slowly, the vines eased and lowered, not entirely, but enough that they could securely reach the ground and test the terrain. â⌠Should we go fetch it?â
Just because he acknowledged that his questions were unwarranted didnât mean he didnât want answer, and Raihan sulks slightly at the lack of a response. He wasnât going to do anything with that information, come on.
âOh, thatâs great!â He recovers quickly, however, at the mention that the landslide has finally, finally, he was getting bored, stopped. Heâs not sure how the other can tell- Both abour the landslide and the earth, heâs squinting from his position on the branch and he canât really see shit, but heâll take Miloâs word for it, even if the other sounds rather apprehensive about it.
âDonât worry, Iâll try ân pull you up if you sink.â Raihan snickers as he casts his gaze far, trying to pinpoint where exactly his spear might be. Again, he wonât ask how the other knows, perhaps itâs some sort of magical power of communing with the earth and soil, heâll never understand all that gibberish, but it sure is helpful to have someone around whoâs well versed in it.
âDonât mind if I do, then!â
And just like that, he pushes himself off the branch and slides down the trunk, easing himself onto the soft soil. His armor doesnât help him stay afloat, and he grimaces at the thought of having to scrub the grime off when they reach civilization, but it doesnât seem like the earth will be hardening any time soon, so he sighs and starts wading through towards where his spear might be.
âSoilâs great, come on down!â He yells up at Milo as an afterthought.
âDamn. Still looking fine as fuck.â
Raihan says, uploading his 8213784th shirtless pic onto his social media.
cottonthumbâ:
âŚâRaihanâŚâ Milo parrots, as if committing the name to memory. Oddly enough though, the lancer carries on, his smile speaking of accomplishment pride. Something about how the man utters his following phrase has Milo quirking an inquisitive brow, his head tilting to the side in a near comical expression. âShould I?â He replies, somewhat nervously at that. A hand reaches up and already heâs tugging at the old scarf wrapped around his neck, the poor thing terribly mussed in combat and rain alike. âI was drafted maybe two weeks ago tops, so maybe Iâm still too fresh to have heard somethingâŚâ He explains, almost apologetic for his ignorance.
Well, that certainly did clarify Miloâs awkward skills on a battlefield. He could still pose as a force in a battlefield, but he had no training with martial defenses of any sort.
âAs for me being a mage,â Milo readjusted himself on their saving tree, the plant still stubbornly standing against the now subsiding landslide. âIâm a geomancer. Itâs a common practice in Turffield; we use magic that weaves with the terrain. I only can work with whatâs naturally available to me. Stone, mud, earth, vinesâŚâ His hand spreads over the branch closest to him in demonstration. The wooden length thickens and twists around, the movement natural if only worryingly fast for a plant to be growing in, finally coming to a stop somewhat closer to the dragoon in order to offer a firmer place with which to steady himself. âItâs a flexible form of magic, but not as destructive as your usual wizard.â
âWeâre not the sort to be called for combat.â
Mayhaps heâs a bit disappointed that the other doesnât know him well, but thinking on it, itâs definitely a good thing. Milo may not have been so quick to trust him and allow him shelter on the tree if he had known who he was.
âWell, no matter! You know who I am now.â
Hearing that the other was a newcomer on the battlefield perhaps made him a tad bit guilty. Of course, it matters naught in war and Raihan still has to do his job, but it still doesnât feel right defeating an enemy with only two weeks worth of experience.
In fact, it makes him feel a bit like a bully.
âThatâs impressive.â He says, watching the branch grow right before his eyes, âIâve not seen this kind of magic in the Hammerlocke army- The mages we have are more, well, destructive.â What else could be expected of them? Truly theyâre a dangerous bunch, and look where that brought them.
âItâs a shame that you had to run into us then, huh?â Raihan says, a grin on his face and without sounding sorry at all. He leans forward, closer to the geomancer. âWere you just out for a supplies run? A scouting party? Or perhaps to search for allies in a nearby town? Oh, I shouldnât be askinâ those questions, huh?â
wrath! or envy đ¤
âDang, youâre really aiminâ to hit me hard here, huh?â
Raihanâs silent for a moment- Itâs unbecoming of him to confess to either of these sins (Is this... Public?), but maybe it could be kind of cathartic to confess to something he keeps close to himself, right?
âWell, Iâll throw you a bone ân tell you something that relates to both of these, how âbout that?
Yâknow... How that kid- The current champion, yeah- how they beat Leon? I always thought it was gonna be me.â
He pauses to laugh, hollow and dry. Thinking of that day embarrassed him, heâd let his true feelings out for a moment and he regrets it. Heâs only glad that neither Leon nor the kid was there to see it.
âWell, when I heard that theyâd beat him, I lost track of myself for a moment there. Donât think the staff appreciated having to clean up after me in the locker room after that.â
Raihan sighs dramatically.
âIâm over it, though. The kid deserves it if he beat Leon, Iâm jusâ a lilâ bit jealous that it wasnât me, yâknow? Donât get me wrong, Leonâs my friend ân all but damn... Iâd love to win against him one day.â

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I'd love to rp with you! I'm just crap at approaching people, also I'm pretty new to the pokemon rp community so I'm still getting a feel for things but i'd be happy to plot with you if you're down of course
[eyo, Iâve been away from raihan lately. thanks for sending this in, I donât know who you are but youâre always free to contact me to plot if youâre comfortable with it.]
Pride...
âReally?â
Raihan laughs.
âPride? Isnât there some more interestinâ sin youâd like to know about?â Come on, isnât that a bit too easy? Heâd say heâs just about the most prideful person he knows, and heâs not afraid to admit it either.
âI upload shirtless pics onto PokĂŠgram, like, daily- Thatâs definitely a prideful move, ainât it?â
Send my muse a deadly sin and theyâll confess to something theyâve done related to that sin.
For reference: pride, greed, gluttony, lust, envy, sloth, and wrath.
cottonthumbâ:
⌠The promise would have to do for them both. Neither was in a condition to reject the other.
Milo eased up slightly, leaning back against the thick makeshift branch that supported him. With the landslide coming to an end, the precarious tree held firmly now, growing firmer now that the pressure it was put under relented and the magic it had been given still flourished. Milo could feel the bark under his hands thicken, the vines embracing each other in this new shape. It was an odd comfort. Licking over his lips, he tasted rain and let that help his dry throat.
âMilo. My name is Milo.â He replied, finding the novelty of an introduction between enemies to be⌠curious, somehow. âThe landslide should keep going for a bit shorter still; the rainâs feeding it but the soilâs lazing. We should be able to step down shortly, but itâll be soft muck.âÂ
A moment of silence, before at last⌠âAnd you? Whatâs your name?â Apparently, the dragoonâs notoriety wasnât such that the geomancer had any idea of his identity.
The other... Doesnât recognize him? Raihan isnât sure whether he should feel insulted or relived- Perhaps the geomancer would not have been as welcoming if he did know who he was (although he doesnât think he could make a worse first impression, considering he was about to spear the man through his chest). He settles for a mixture of the both, letting out a sigh.
âIâm Raihan, a dragoon of the Hammerlocke empire.â He pauses, allowing a moment or two to pass before his pride gets the better of him, and he shoots the other a smirk.
âThe dragoon, in fact- Iâm sure youâve heard of me, right?â Heâs curious, alright? Is he as well know in other regions as he is in his own empire? Truth to be told, heâs not quite sure what he expects (does he... Actually want to be known for what he does on the battlefield? Maybe he regrets asking as soon as he does).
âWell, anyway, youâre a mage or somethinâ, right? What sort? This here is pretty impressive.â Raihan pats the branch heâs sitting on gently, as if afraid that any harder impact would cause it to break off.
((Haven't talked to you yet! I hope to do so soon though- You seem like a cool person!))
[ty!!! I hope we get the opportunity to interact sometime!]

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cottonthumbâ:
⌠Not a one. Milo didnât want to glance down into the shifting soil to calculate the probability of survival. Thankfully, his unexpected company provided a means of distraction. It wasnât much better than the previous prospect, but heâd sooner consider conflict than loss.
âIâm not interested in contributing to body counts.â He responded, though there was something lacking in his reply. Milo was in no condition to fend the dragoon off now, nor would he be able to make the trip alone back to the frontlines from whence theyâd been traveling. His group was intended as reinforcement for a somewhat distant settlement and they were well on their way when theyâd happened upon the enemy. An unexpected battle with similarly unexpected results.
Either way, his aching ribs felt less bruised and more damaged the more he paid mind to them. If he wanted to return safely, heâd need help. And fortune played him for a fool, allowing the only other survivor to be the very man whoâd nearly skewered him. So, Milo would have to play this up. âNow, unless youâd rather take a swim, itâs a bad idea to try anything. I donât need a lance to defend myself, but Iâd rather not get into that.â
âIâm fine with you staying here,â Still, the look in Miloâs eyes spoke of conditions. âAs long as you can give me your word that you wonât be fighting me once the landslide is through.â Heâd only have the lancerâs word on it⌠but Milo didnât have an option either.
âRelax.â He says with a grin, âI donât have anything against you personally, so you have my word that I wonât attack you once weâre safe from the landslide.â Historically, Raihan has never minded playing dirty and utilizing loopholes, and he wonders whether or not his reputation precedes him.
Ah well, heâs given his word, itâs up to the other whether or not he wants to believe him. Speaking of reputations...
âSo, since we might be stuck here for a while, whatâs your name?â Slowly but surely, the earth is calming, and Raihan thinks about having to return to his kingdom. As much as he would like to claim to be a lone wolf of sorts, heâs not very fond of the idea of trekking through the wilderness alone in search of the nearest civilization. Theyâre nowhere near any town he knows of, and heâd much rather have a companion to watch his back. Who knows how long theyâll be out here for?
cottonthumbâ:
⌠The precarious plant rocks against the weight of water and earth, but its roots run deep and the onslaught cannot fell it. The battlefield - a flat expanse of trod down grass at the base of an incline - was now nothing but clay and mud, shifting like molten lava. Milo watched, still short for breath, as everything got swept under the red of it, combatants run over by the tide, buried alive.
He swallows heavily and tears his eyes off from the ground.
Greeting the dragoon that had earlier intended to gouge through his chest on the top of those vines didnât feel exceptionally comforting. MIlo turned over, but felt the aching bruise of his ribs clearly enough that he knew he couldnât fight the other off. Luck would have it that - at least - the lancer was unarmed. It was a standstill, and even then Milo didnât particularly feel enough animosity for the stranger in order to risk another life.
âDid anyone else manage?â He asks, somewhat breathless but clear enough that he can be heard over the thinning rain. Itâd be a while longer before either of them could get down, and even then the ground would be awful to trudge in.
Raihan tries not to think about how many of those who didnât manage were his friends at the otherâs question, directing his attention lower on the vines as if he doesnât already know the answer.
âNah.â He answers after a short pause, properly hoisting himself up onto a branch so he can take a rest. Heâs quite surprised that the improvised plant is able to take the weight of two people considering heâs not light, especially not with his armor, muddied from his desperate clamber towards safety. At the thought of having to clean that up he grimaces, perhaps more bothered by that than their current predicament. âI donât really see anyone.â
Heâs well aware that itâs not what the other wants to hear, nor does it bring him any joy to say those words. Theyâre not necessarily dead, of course, just not alive.
SchrĂśdinger's battalion, he thinks to himself, and chuckles.
âSo, how long dâyou plan on letting me hang out on your tree?â Raihan asks, to shift the attention away from straight up depressing, âIâm dangerous, you know, even without my lance.â Not that he has any plans of attacking the other of course- Heâs not going to try and kill his savior, especially when he has no idea exactly how the otherâs magic works. Can he still control the plant after summoning it from the ground up? Heâll assume yes, which means any scenario he conjures up in which he attacks the geomancer involves him being flung off the very tree heâs clinging to for his life.
So, no thanks, heâll play nice for now.
@baddragon241
The blade of the lance whistled past him, a breath from his chest. He took his steps back, but the rain-drenched earth gave him no traction. His feet slid from under him and Milo landed heavy on his side, ribs aching in a reminder of the earlier blow heâd taken from an opposing soldier. The deluge pelted them mercilessly and Milo could hardly look up against the water dripping from his hair. But there it was, the cold glint of the spear, held aloft, prepped to drive through him and pin him to the groundâŚ
The floor shuddered. There was a roar different from thunder.
A glance to the side and Milo saw it too late; some fool of a wizard and all the magic at his fingertips⌠couldnât have paid any less attention to the precarious battle scape when casting, could they? The ground gave in, shook, and washed with the torrential storm turned into seas. The landslide rushed in.
âCLIMB!â Milo howled over the storm, though his voice was swallowed in it. The dragoon he faced was all but forgotten; if he didnât figure a solution for the landslide, the lance was the least of his worries. Both hands planted firmly on the ground, Milo drew every ounce of strength within him, chanted low in his breath, and focused. His geomancy bore fruit and sprung from underfoot, heavy vines that tangled and twisted and braided together to lift his body up as high as it could go before the landslide struck. Milo shut his eyes and prayed that others from his party had reached the improvised tree in time.
In truth, only the dragoon had been close enough.
His lance twirls easily in his hands, but the weight of it is heavy. He's Raihan, legendary dragoon, renown for his ruthless efficiency on the battlefield. His party spreads around him, everyone with their own part to play in this chaos, and he only has eyes for his opponent.
In one quick blow, he ends the battle, their suffering, and yet this is nothing to celebrate over. He's solemn, for one life taken on the battlefield is one unnecessary life taken. He can barely tell friend and foe once felled, and he pointedly avoids looking as his feet as he charges yet another opponent, weapon at the ready. It doesnât take much to run the magic user down with the help of the land, and he moves in for the kill as he has so many times before-
But then he loses his balance, and it feels like everything goes in slow motion. Digging his heels into the ground in a futile attempt to regain his form, he realizes it's not him, it's the mud under his feet. The very terrain that had helped him corner the geomancer is turning against him, no, all of them. He doesn't panic, no, and heâs fully prepared to cling onto his lance, stabbed into the running earth, and pray that he doesnât get swept away.
But a better option is presented to Raihan, in the form of vines sprouting and twirling in front of him. To be honest, he couldnât hear the muffled cry of the man working his magic over the rumble of the ground, he just reached out and clung on like his life depended on it (it did). Adrenaline courses through his body as he climbs to avoid the landslide, and he only realizes that his treasured lance is missing when he reaches safety.
âAw, shit.â Raihan breathes out, more to himself than anything. Now that he has time to think, he figures he should thank whomever saved him while he still can- After all, he doesnât think a measly landslide would stop a war (he wonders... Was this landslide planned? Someoneâs cruel strategy to rid the opposing party while sacrificing their own). Upon closer inspection, it seems like the face of his savior was the same one he had pointed his lance mere minutes ago, and he wonders if the other meant to save him.
âQuick thinking there, thanks for savinâ my life, mage. Hope you donât regret saving the enemy.â He laughs easily, watching as the raging earth slows. If he gets kicked off, heâll be able to survive, he thinks.
âDouble 420 blaze it.â
STUDY Â Â : Â Â RAIHAN Â Â Â Repost it, do not reblog.
tagged by :Â @skulldxddyâ tagging : do it if u wanna!
â Â Â basics.
⸠   is your muse tall   /   short   /   average ? Sir is 6â˛9âł, and he likes to make it known.
⸠   are they okay with their height ? Yes. He loves it. Some people may say heâs 6â˛8âł, but no, heâs definitely 6â˛9âł.
⸠   whatâs their hair like ? Very dark brown hair. He wears them in dreadlocks. Iâm really not the best at describing stuff.
⸠  do they spend a  lot of time on their hair   /   grooming ? Yeah, definitely. Aside from keeping really good care of his hair (and spending a lot of time after battles getting sand out), he also has a morning skincare routine. Gotta look good and have clear skin for his selfies.
⸠   does your muse care about their appearance  /  what others think ? Raihan big cares about his own appearance (see above) and couldnât care less about what others think. Not the type to be affected by hate comments at all.
â Â Â preferences.
⸠   indoors   or   outdoors ? Outdoors. The lightingâs better. LOL but seriously, he doesnât like staying inside too much, and thinks sunâs important to you.
⸠   rain   or   sunshine ? Sunshine. He doesnât like the hassle of getting wet from rain, especially when it ruins his look.
⸠   forest   or   beach ? Beach. Ya boiâs gotta take beach selfies.
⸠   precious   metals   or   gems ? Gems. Theyâre shiny. They catch his attention. Heâll hoard them.
⸠   flowers   or   perfumes ? Neither. Flowers die too easily, and perfume kinda smells like shit to him.
⸠   personality   or   appearance ? Honestly, probably appearance. Definitely easier to attract him with a pretty face over a good personality.
⸠   being   alone   or   being   in   a   crowd ? Both have their merits? But probably leaning a bit more towards crowds.
⸠   order   or   anarchy ? Very obviously anarchy.
⸠   painful   truths   or   white   lies ? Painful truths. He hates being lied to, and he doesnât get hurt easily anyway. Heâs also not bothered about hurting other peopleâs feelings if heâs on the giving end.
⸠   science   or   magic ? Magic is cooler.
⸠   peace   or   conflict ? Raihan kind of... Enjoys conflict. Peace is too quiet.
⸠   night   or   day ? Probably day? Not sure.
⸠   dusk   or   dawn ? Not sure...
⸠   warmth   or   cold ? Cold, just because heâs practically a human heater, and any more heat will make him sweat buckets.
⸠   many  acquaintances   or   a   few  close   friends ? Many acquaintances.
⸠   reading   or   playing   a   game ? He has 0 patience to read, and it really depends on what game.
â Â Â questionnaire.
⸠   what are some of your museâs bad habits ? Being on his phone all the time, taking pictures of his food before eating, paying absolutely 0 attention to whatâs going on around him and the people around him, teasing literally everyone with no regards for their comfort level, no brain to mouth filter.
⸠   has your muse lost anyone close to them ? how has it affected them ? No.
⸠   what are some fond memories your muse has ? Receiving his first Pokemon, entering the gym challenge, becoming a gym leader.
⸠  is it easy for your muse to kill ? No, thatâs not really a thing he would every do? Not that there would ever be an opportunity where he would... Have to? In this universe? LOL
⸠   whatâs it like when your muse breaks down ? I guess this really depends on what kind of break down and what led to it, though Raihan is probably the silent type when he gets unhinged. Heâd give you a cold and deadly stare, youâd be able to sense the burning hatred radiating from him.
⸠   is your muse capable of trusting someone with their life ? Unlikely, but perhaps possible.
⸠   whatâs your muse like when theyâre in love ? Wow, haha, awkward. He wouldnât know heâs in love, heâs never fallen in love with anyone aside from himself in his life. My personal hc about his love language is that he starts memorizing what the other person likes, and will lend them his clothes, because he probably likes seeing them wearing his oversized shit, unless he somehow grabs someone his size/bigger than him.

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PREDICTABLY...
you have no brain cells
maybe you used to but it doesn't matter. the point is you don't have any now. you're running purely on spite and either caffeine or sugar. nice
âI definitely stole these glasses.â
[ calm ] "Jus' chill ou' mate... losin' a follower ain' th'end 'f th'world."
Raihan, out of spite, purposefully knocks over a (thankfully empty) mug as he turns to look at Piers.
âActually, it is.â He retorts, âBecause Iâm super close to my next million, Piers, so every follower counts. Actually, are you following me? Was it you, did you unfollow me?â
Heâs only making a big deal out of it because the other told him to chill out- Itâs not that big of a deal (although⌠He would like to reach that next million sooner than later).