#arcechosen

“Yep, not a surprise, there.

As for you, just ‘cause we ain’t Absolute Enemies anymore that doesn’t mean I wanna do anything other than ignore ya, aight? Aight.

And you’re not sharin’ pics?! Aight rude.

an image for you, cogita &. akari eating ramen off the fairy plate.

Torn from the protection of her own world, cast into rage by the kin she mourned so long ago. His betrayal comes with a deep ache, one that threw her into a rage so blinding that she was forcibly forged into a form that threatened to tear her apart.

Her maw had been opened with a silent agonized wail, until red flooded the pain and she was contained once more.

This space, not build by her own hands, is her home as of now. She was hidden, not to be seen and she’s left to think. Left to think about this reality that she found herself in. She had felt her counterpart in her frenzy, pleading silently for her to stop.

She wondered if he was alright now, she hoped so.

She wondered of the chosen, brought by creation’s wielder to these lands unknown. She had not yet the pleasure to meet the creator’s chosen, especially as she had been so clouded.

From deep in the abyss she resided, she felt him. She felt the presence of the one who forced her into an uncontrollable fury, the one who she had mourned for centuries past. She feels him, and she is imprisoned.

And she hears the quiet plea of the creator far above.

‘Help Her’

He’d never bring himself to fall in front of others---Mai, more than anyone, in all honesty---but Adaman found himself in an unlikely predicament. Still, his gaze wandered out among the Crimson Mirelands, his home, perched ( more like simply laid out on, sitting improperly with his legs stretched out in front of him ) upon the lady of the ridge’s stage, overlooking the flatlands. Company hadn’t crossed his mind, but who else could he expect to be bounding across the lands of Hisui aside from none other than Galaxy’s beloved Akari.

Adaman could trust her with his life if he had to, but to have her lend her shoulder despite their difference in age, it left him wondering ( what stole the last of your childhood? was it coming here to begin with? ). She had a point though.

Ingo roots around in an inner pocket to present a pecha berry and a broad, flat fern leaf wrapped around fragrant stalks. The herbs are rather common around the edges of the cliffs, rising from where the ground meets its end. "The offerings i make are... a bit off the beaten track, i believe. I normally roughly dice a pecha and mix it along with the salt and herbs into a mushroom cake. They're wrapped in leaves to ensure they don't come apart." 

...Alright, yes, fine, he may have been spoiling Lady Sneasler quite a bit. Every second spent is worth seeing her delighted face at the prospect of treats. "Though- I have no doubts she would accept the salt alone, miss Akari. Lady Sneasler quite enjoys it as is, and these are a special treat." A quick reassurance, even as it's offered up to her. He doesn't have any mushroom cakes on him since they don't keep well in pockets, but this is already more than half the battle for a few treats.

 how  exhilarating,  how  fulfilling,  how  freeing  it  is!  to  stand  at  the  peak  of  hisui’s  greatest  temple  and  cast  his  gaze  down  to  the  great  chosen  one!  (  i  am,  you  know,  above  you,  as  i  should  have  been  after  so  many  years!  )。  shrill  crying  wind  whistles  against  the  fabric  of  his  cloak,  screaming  past  his  ears:  begging,  pleading,  pitiful  sound。  music  to  his  ears!  there  will  not,  shall  not,  be  another  as  he:  devoted  follower,  student  of  divine  discipline。  (  what  of  you  should  ever  fall  to  the  likes  of  a  little  girl?!  )

 a  surge  of  adrenaline  spikes  through  his  insides  the  very  moment  he  sees  her  topple  over  the  edge。  after  everything          all  his  efforts  to  unveil  arceus  itself         this  victory  tastes  just  within  reach。  she  still  has  the  plates         she  still  has  the  plates!

 it  takes  him  a  moment  to  realise  that  she  is  not  the  one  who  screams  out  in  despair。

 at  his  side,  giratina  stops  its  impending  move,  twisting  toward  him。  but  he  discards  care  in  favour  of  bolting  from  his  spot,  breaking  through  the  thick,  dark  fog  to  where  the  girl  had  fallen。  when  he  spots  her  (  still  alive!  still  alive!  do  you  not  feel  an  inkling  of         do  you  not  FEEL?  ),  he  drops  to  his  stomach,  ignoring  the  particularly  nasty  jolt  of  pain  in  his  elbow  and  shoulder  when  he  lands  wrong。  his  other  arm  curls  down,  fingers  digging  into  her  arm,  just  above  the  elbow。  

 she’s  alive!  isn’t  that  better  than  what  you  wished  for?!