primus deus.

“Why yes, I am! Professor Sycamore, Kalos’s very own pokemon professor. How can I help you?”

…There was something about this stranger’s aura. It was far too strong to belong to a human… But he chose to not say anything about it for now.

“Hm? Professor Royal… I do not believe we have met before. Of course, it is possible we have both been to the same events and just missed each other,” he answered with a mareepish smile. “What is her field of study? Perhaps I’ve read her work before.” He wasn’t always the best at answering questions that pertained to other professor’s specialties, but he’d certainly try, if that was what the fellow wanted.

  Remus gives a pleasant, albeit suspicious (of the other man) smile, adjusting his coat. “Sycamore, right? Is a requirement to become a professor being named after a tree? It seems like it,” he jokes, making light of the strangely tense conversation. Well, on his end, at least. 

  “Petra Royal. She studies the connection between affection, happiness, and evolution. Such as how Pokemon such as Crobat and Lucario are only seen when content enough with their trainer. My apologies for assuming all professors know each other!” 

     “Tis hardly a rumor, monsieur.”

Eyes follow the approach of this stranger, presumptuous and posh. Few dare to approach the Dauphin these days, protected and distant as he is, and thus this is a particularly unique event. 

       Said protection tenses where they sit, a dozen soldiers dressed in red or white. 

      He takes his drink and tests, red-dusted eyes sliding closed (but always watchful, never truly closed). He murmurs his pleasure to the barista, easing the weight upon her shoulders, and leaves a fine tip. 

       He turns to face the stranger, light flashing off the gemstones embedded in dark steel along his brow. It’s with that same light (judgemental, harsh as LEDs tend to be) that he inspects the smaller man; details are parsed before the whole is revealed, disgust found from brown roots but orange strands and scruff that lacks symmetry.

       But no flowers bloom from his brow, nor do they curl from underneath that pressed white shirt. His skin remains flat and pure, barely textured (unreal, unrealistic, like something that does not belong). 

        His eyes narrow. 

Monseigneur looked like this too, didn’t he?

        “Few have the gall to approach royalty, you realize.” and few interest him enough for him to reciprocate, but there’s just something about this one that catches. Like Monseigneur, like a could-be something… “Especially if they claim only a half-knowledge as to hierarchies. Has the news of my coronation not yet reached your home, stranger?”

  Remus eyes the other man in silence, tea to his lips. What an interesting way to present oneself. The hair is rather gaudy, but well-kept. He must put a lot of time into it.

          Ｔｉｍｅ   ｗｅ   ｎｏ   ｌｏｎｇｅｒ   ｈａｖｅ   ｔｏ      ｏｕｒｓｅｌｖｅｓ,   ｍｉｎｄ   ｙｏｕ.

  Subtly flinching at the sudden remark, -- a twitch of his mouth, really -- he sips at his drink, murmuring similar praise to the one who had served it to him, “Kalos seems to have excellent brewery, mm?” as he slides his own tip forward. 

  Remus would have presented himself more properly than even now, if he knew he would come face to face with fellow royalty. It would have been a bit more of an effort to do so, given his rather scatterbrained disposition as of late, but an extra dab of gel and a cleaner shave would have been appropriate, wouldn’t it?

  “Mhm. I often have to pose as a civilian just to enjoy a stroll around my home, myself. Things aren’t that simple, anymore, however..” The man trails off, taking another swig of his drink -- tea, to be specific. Some sort of blend incorporating strawberries. 

  “My apologies -- Silenas is not yet as connected to other regions as they are to each other. I have only assumptions and word of mouth to work off of. My last visit here was in my youth.”

“Rumor has it that you happen to be royalty. Am I correct on this?” 

  A somewhat dapper-dressed man -- bearing a blue, black, and silver-colored, Honedge-shaped pin on a lapel -- inquires, finding it interesting how he’s run across this man while on a visit to the Kalos region. He glances over to him over a drink -- some form of tea or coffee, likely -- he had just ordered, eyebrow perked. 

“I often get aches. Headaches. Body pains. It is difficult to contain the power of a god within my body, especially since one of my limbs isn’t organic – one less area of my body to shoulder the weight.”

  starter call! like and i’ll pop into your messages to plot.

                   “how can pokemon trainers be so needlessly cruel?”

  this is a semi-selective, oc-based, Pokemon RP blog for Remus Ignatios, the leader of Team Prime -- the villains of a fan region called Silenas! he has a bond (think fanon archie or maxie) with Arceus, thanks to getting his hands on one of its green gems and a few of its plates. like or reblog if you’d like to interact with him! 

  follows and likes will come from colorlcss.