OC Brainrot Incarnate

I'm Crystal, or Crys for short.

Books Music and Games yippee.

Mostly Pokemon (including fangames) but I also fw other things I cba to compile lol.

I also like the riordanverse a lot.

Pfp is from this specific frame of this PLZA trailer.

Header character art by Falcon, Wallpapers by @amethystblack & @crimsoncrim from Pokemon Reborn

Tags under the cut(mostly for me because I keep fucking forgetting what tags i use and invent new ones every time)

Day 10 – Free

As he jumped on his Pidgeot, he felt freer than ever before. He barely had time to find a good grip before it took off into flight. “Pidge, Mega Evolve! Go!” he could barely hear his own voice over the wind rushing past his ears. Nevertheless, his keystone began shining bright. A pink light enveloped them. And a moment later, appeared his Mega Pidgeot underneath him.

“Caaaaaw!” It cried as both Pokemon and trainer shot higher and higher into the sky.

He had to hold on for dear life as his partner picked up even more speed. He didn’t care. It was a wonderful, giddy feeling. At this height, anything seemed possible. He cried out in exhilaration, his voice carrying across the cloudless sky.

To an onlooker from the ground, they would appear as but a tiny speck, silhouetted against the shining sun. But up here, he could see the entire landscape before him. His heart felt full to burst. And he had no doubt Pidgeot was enjoying flying as well. With a mighty flap of its wings, it glided straight through the air, barely exerting itself. Infinity energy had heightened its capabilities to levels it didn’t even know it could achieve.

The rain pours down in cold sheets all around you, but you remain impervious to it. A blessing, or a curse, of being a saltborn creature. The elements never affected you the way they did regular humans, or other people. Nevertheless, visibility remains poor, so you shield your eyes as you make your way down to the Cradle Lighthouse, where you first started your journey.

The walk through Skyspear Climb is long and arduous, and you know that this detour is a fool’s errand. Time was monotonic, and the chorus grew louder and louder. But something about the old man’s plea compelled you honour his wish. A whole day passed, filled with nothing but walking. The island was mostly devoid of trainers now. The infection had taken over every human being. Only Suit and his players were left. And even then you were not sure if the players were just mere conjectures to satisfy Suit’s needs. Red was gone, killed by your own hands. And that just left the old man.

You kept walking and walking, your mind consumed by thoughts. And before long, you arrive at the pier. He was there, looking over the sea. You place yourself beside him and join him in his silent survey. The sea looked… angry. Despite the cold rain, you feel a strange kind of heat emanating from it. Seamother…

After a few moments of standing in silence, the man spoke.

“I was created for a purpose, same as you were, same as any Wanderer is. And I took that burden willingly, same as you did, when I rose from the shallows.” You are silent, waiting for him to continue. His gaze over the sea seemed to grow longer. “I shed that burden willingly, when I met my daughter, Kara.” “I do not know by which method or madness she was never infected. I knew that she wasn’t a Wanderer. And yet, she was safe. For a time we looked after each other. At first, it was difficult, living with a human. They have needs and wants that are simply not in their control. Food, for instance. I learnt how to fish so that I could satisfy my daughter’s hungers. It wasn’t perfect, but we survived. But such a survival was meaningless. I knew that. And I knew my Kara knew that too. But I never expected her to confront the matter in the way she chose to do.”

He paused, closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“One day, she told me she’d made up her mind.  She would challenge the Champion. I refused, of course. But she was not one to be shackled. My anecdotes could only strengthen her resolve, instead of breaking it.” He let out a short laugh. “In that regard, she was more of a Wanderer than I was.” “We fought; I told her she couldn’t do it. And she set out to prove me wrong. It has been ages since we last spoke.

He turned to face you. You turn your gaze upwards to meet his eyes. They’re filled with a strange sort of resignation.

“I don’t know if she has forgiven me, and I don’t know if she can. As a father, I had only one purpose: to prepare my daughter for what’s to come. I like to think I have succeeded in that regard. But that purpose is at its end. And as a Wanderer, I gave up my role when I chose to shoulder the responsibility of raising Kara.” “…You’ve fought Red, haven’t you?”

You are surprised, you clutch your bag protectively, where the Azure Flute rested.

He chuckled. “I met Red a long time ago. When he too, was like you. Full of energy and vigour, and a wish to see the champion gone. But then he found out about the truth of the Island’s woes. And his spirit broke. When I last saw him. He said that he was going to wait out the rest of the island’s days with Arceus. But he’s gone now… and you have the flute with you.” “I’ve told you my stories. That’s my offering to you, as a fellow Wanderer. As a father, I only ask you to exercise caution. The monster will not be easily defeated. But my time is over as well. I have one last request.”

In that moment, when he caught his breath, you realise what he’s about to ask of you. And you decide right there that this was one wish of his that you couldn’t-wouldn’t honour.

“No,” you say, your voice hoarse from disuse.

The old man looked resigned. “I understand. What I’m asking is not easily done. But…”

“No,” you say again, more forcefully this time. “This has gone on for long enough. I will not kill another. The only one that deserves to go,” your voice rises, and with it the finality of your statement falls upon the both of you with a hammer. “Is the monster.”

For the first time since you’ve met him, the old man seemed truly surprised. “I… knew you had a fire in you, a willingness to overcome all odds no matter what, but this…” he trailed off.

“Red’s death will not be in vain. My journey is nearing its end. And after, we’ll go, together to search for Kara. I promise you this.” You speak with so much conviction, you wonder if you’re trying to convince yourself of your words.

The old man turned his gaze towards the sea. “Very well, then. I will wait for you here. Now go. Time is running out. I wish you farewell at the Journey’s End.”

“The rain’s getting heavy, huh?” Melia said, sitting down across from Anthony. It was the day after Christmas. They had come to Mika’s Milk Bar, just the two of them. They had decided that they needed a moment to themselves after the chaos of yesterday. And they were sick and tired of meeting in the Zeight. Anthony didn’t even know what to make of what had happened. But he was glad it was over. “Yeah…” He looked out through the windows, which had been fogged up by the heavy rains. Getting back would be a challenge; Route 9 turned into a swamp every time it rained.

A waiter appeared to take their orders. Anthony ordered an Ice Cream Coffee shake for himself; Melia got herself a hot chocolate.

They sat in silence for a while; Melia observing the interiors of the milk bar, while Anthony was gazing intently at the steady stream of people that straggled in through the door, seeking shelter from the heavy rains. He knew he should talk. But he didn’t know what to say. What they learnt yesterday… what it meant for him and Crescent, for the rest of their friends.

“So,” he began. Melia turned to look at him, her fingers drumming on the table between them. “About yesterday…” he trailed off. Damnit, what the hell was he supposed to say that didn’t make him look like an absolute coward!?

“I suppose we should talk about what we learnt yesterday means for us. For you and me, in particular,” Melia said. “Between you, me and Crescent, we’re the only ones capable of changing the outcome for our friends.” She gave a dry laugh. “Of course, not like I even have a say in things.”

Anthony fixed her with a look. “Melia, Crescent may have been bluffing when she lied about the Interceptor Effect. But do you really think that’s not true?” She went quiet, pondering the question. “I suppose her words carried some truth, but that doesn’t change the fact that the rest of us are still powerless without you and her.” “I don’t think you all are powerless,” he said quietly. “My friends have been the greatest source of strength I could’ve asked for. Without that, I’d have crumbled against Xen a long time ago.” He was tired, dead tired of everyone piling up expectations on him just because he was supposed to be some savior chosen by Variya. He needed his friends- no, he needed Melia beside him if he was going to save the world. “What I’m trying to say is, I need you to be fighting with me, Melia. We have gone through so much together. Every time we’ve fought side by side, we’ve made it.”

Melia smiled dryly. “Anthony, I have come too far to let what we learnt yesterday hinder me. Maybe it’s because I spent three years without any real autonomy, but… I am quite comfortable giving it my all, failing body and fates written in the stars be damned. I need you as well, Anthony. You’ve given me the utmost willpower to keep on going. To believe that even a fraction of what I’m fighting for is worth it. You may be the Interceptor, but our fates have entangled too much to try and weave out now. And I think you know as well as I do that, when it comes down to it, when we’re finally facing Madame X for real,”

Valarie was staring blankly, her eyes open but not really seeing anything. Not that there was anything to see on the Crimson Sea, really. Just miles and miles of red, toxic water that stretched off forever into the horizon. Whatever light managed to filter through the thick red clouds glittered grimly on the surface. Even the small islands that used to exist had been swallowed up. The sea was unforgiving, indiscriminate in what it chose to engulf in its putrid fluids.

Even though she had become used to the stench of the seawater, she still choked on it sometimes. And today was especially bad. She didn’t really know what she was doing on the deck. All the other Pyriahs stayed inside for their own health. She liked to stay out here, though. The scenery rarely changed, if at all. And yet she always made a point to come above for at least a couple of hours every day. She knew her health was worsening; her lungs were being pushed to their limits by the toxic air and her excessive drinking didn’t exactly help matters. But she liked living, grasping at every moment of joy and holding onto it tightly until she got sick of it. If ruining her liver and lungs was the price to pay, then fuck it, she couldn’t care any less.

Valarie didn’t often like thinking about the situation she was in. But for a few days now, ever since her latest raid, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was horribly wrong. This was not how things were supposed to be. But what was the alternative? Storm-9 had come and ruined her- no, the entire planet. It was only by the blessings of Nymiera that she had been able to rise to the position she was in now. Cheating, despicable and foul as her methods might have been, she had been the one to make it. But everything in her body screamed that something was wrong. That this was not the life she should be living. This wasn’t her.

For one, she had been having dreams. About a world which hadn’t become the polluted wasteland that was her reality. In them, she would be on a beach, not looking at the Crimson Sea, but a pristine, clear one. The sky wasn’t covered in blood red clouds, but white ones. And when she turned from looking at the sea in her dreams, she could see two people. A brown-haired guy, who seemed to be slightly older than her, wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans. And a young girl, with jet black hair and a goofy smile on her face. Try as she might, she couldn’t stop seeing the sea or these two people in her dreams. And sometimes other people also appeared. When she had captured Kenneth’s group from their refuge, she had almost thrown up upon seeing the prisoners. Because Amber, Melia and Axel looked almost exactly the same as some of the people plaguing her dreams. And every time she thought of the first two, she felt as if her mind was being split apart by some unknown grief, fear and anger.

And she knew the images weren’t a conjured fantasy by her mind. She had seen pictures of the world the way it was before the storm hit, had been in the presence of actual nature within the confines of Preserve on the S.S. Paradise.

Her reverie was broken when she heard a loud bang come from the lower decks of the ship. Her mind kicked into overdrive. She realised the prisoners had been freed. She wasn’t stupid. She had been able to sense how resourceful and powerful Melia and Axel were. It was only a matter of time before they freed themselves.

“Nice work out there,” Synea told Riviera as they entered the green room and sank down to their knees against a wall. “I don’t know… giving that speech was tiring, and I’m pretty sure half of what I said was bullshit. I don’t know why they chose me to give the valedictorian speech.” they mumbled, all energy drained from having to speak nonstop for Synea smirked. “Really, dude? President of the school, champion debater and top of the Humanities section. Not to inflate your ego but it’s obvious why they chose you.” They weren’t convinced. “Well, what about Potassium? He’s the topper in the Science batch, and have you seen the work he did on the background visuals for this event?”

“I know, but that guy also hates public speaking so,” she left that thought in the air. They sighed and put their face into their hands. “I’m tired.” “Thought so, here, catch,” Synea tossed them a snack bar. “The ramp walk starts soon. I can’t have you looking tired when we go and strut on the stage.” Right, the ramp walk. Riviera never really got the point, they weren’t really one to show off, but the other students seemed to love it, especially Synea. She had chosen their outfits. And, despite their misgivings, they had to admit that her eye for fashion was impeccable.

“Alright, come over here and let me fix up your outfit,” she called over from near the mirror, where she was now, putting the final touches on her makeup. “Alright,” Riviera picked themselves off the floor and went over to her.

“Thanks,” they said, after she was finished. They looked at themselves in the mirror. The grey three-piece she had chosen fit them rather nicely. Synea had chosen to accessorise that with a simple silver ring and a pair of matching studs. She was also wearing a off white three-piece, with a thin gold chain for an accessory. She had chosen to slick back her hair in a long ponytail.

“We look absolutely fabulous,” She said, looking at the pair of them. “We’re so talking home the Best Dressed pair award.”

“I wouldn’t count on it, have you seen what Hazel and her boyfriend are wearing?” they told her. “Hazel’s bum boyfriend can’t walk to save his life,” she replied. “As long as you don’t fuck up on the stage, we’re set.” “Whatever you say, darling. Thanks for all this.”

“Goodness, what a mess.”

Synea looked up from her work, towards the intruding voice. A few feet away, near the door to her room, was her friend, Riviera. They were looking all over the artroom with an appraising eye. “What?” Synea said, rather defensively. “Art is messy.” “Well, yes,” Riviera conceded. “But you could stand to do things a little… neater.” They went on as they carefully treaded their way through the chaos of art supplies – paint, paper, glue bottles, glitter and whatnot, towards her, at the ‘eye of the creative storm’, as Riv often liked to say. “At least try to make it so that people can traverse through your sacred coven of art.” Looking around the room, Synea realised just how messy it had become. It had been a habit of hers, ever since she had gotten into art. No matter how much she tried, whenever she worked on a big project, her workspace would unerringly become a huge mess. It was a battle she had given up on trying to fight, and had learnt to live with. She was lost in her musing when Riviera finally reached her. They reached into their bag and brought out a bag of chips and a couple of drinks. “Here, I know you skipped lunch.” “Thanks.” She took off her paint-stained gloves and tore open the bag. “Oh, that’s gorgeous.” Riviera sighed, looking at her current project, a huge banner for the school Farewell Ceremony. It was a rather pretty piece; the canvas was painted in shades of blue and purple, with tons of glitter to make it shine and sparkle. Synea grinned. “It’s gonna look even better once I’m done doing the letters on it.”

Jen looked out over the city. Night had fallen, but everything was still very bright. Every building had fairy lights draped over it, cascading down in a bright shimmering stream. He usually preferred the only the glow of moonlight at night, but he couldn’t deny that this was all sorts of beautiful. It felt as if the lights were showing him the glow of human souls. A reminder that humans were altogether not so different. Everyone wished to celebrate, to dance and to enjoy. If no other thread existed, this was one that he believed linked them all.

A photo, then. He took out his phone and snapped a click of the view, in all its bright glory. The picture wasn’t very clear. But it was futile to care about picture quality when his phone sucked. But the essence had been captured. And that was all that mattered.

I wish I had someone to share this night with. A strange thought, but one that made his heart ache, nonetheless. His usual proclivity for solitude had been replaced by the want of another person. To have someone to stare over the city with. But he was a master at pushing people away. And all his friends were probably out with other friends and families, touring the city and having a great old time.