wintry, austere... surely, this land bears some resemblance to the hisui of old.

fresh snowfall crunches beneath the press of his boots -- so new and yet still so worn with age -- as he proceeds down the powdered path. the freezing chill threatens to nip at his skin, slip beneath the layers he’d adorned and bathe him blue with winter’s kiss: but the fire burning within the deepest parts of him, untamed at his core, presses him on to endure, endure, endure.

( his desire, even now, cannot be contained: even when rejected by the god he seeks so desperately, he has persevered. knocked from the highest point towards heaven, his crawl back skyward has resumed for a hundred years. fingers rent and raw, teeth grit, refusing to give in: bitterness denies it, ambition destroys it, the divine mission and curiosity pumping the arrhythmic beat of his heart; the blood of the ancient sinnohans burns within his veins, demanding no rest until he has finished what he started. until he, chosen, will witness his ideals fully realized. until a world this cruel is born anew. until god answers for all it has denied him in silence, and bends to his whims. )

a lift, a vault, a leap; he lands, with some minor stumbling, over the fallen tree in front of the split-mouth road he’s hounded. the trail through the undiscovered territory between johto and sinnoh had been a tricky one, maps unreliable and the people scarce; a spit of land that preserves the past so clearly, that if it hadn’t been for the sparse pickings of homes and small settlements on the blurring horizon, perhaps he would have wagered it was a photograph of hisui. untouched by time. not so unlike himself.

but it hadn’t been an impossible task. word with kind strangers had given him a lead and an inch to work with, and when paid in the information he sought, he charged forward with reckless abandon. he was so close, so close -- the sinjoh ruins, the last remaining structure of his people, a holy site long forgotten, a place of calling for arceus, was only a finger’s brush away--

now, it was right over his palm, the lines of it -- his destiny -- matching over where the temple resided. when he rises from his full height and takes in the sight before him, he’s not sure what leaves his chest tighter: the sudden influx of air, or the unforgiving temperature.

had it been the latter, it hadn’t mattered. his heart skips a beat, then begins again: faster now, hammering away in his chest. excitement thunders in his neck, his wrist, in-between his ribs: his mouth trembles, a shuddering breath lost on the cloud of cold that expels from his chapped lips. teeth shine in his smile, wolfish and with unwarranted glee, awe and accomplishment burning in his wide-eyed gaze.

finally. finally.

“the sinjoh ruins... at last, at long last...!”  the words fall from his lips in disbelief, to a party of no one other than himself, voice riding on a tremor as a laugh creeps out. his eyes crinkle, head tipping towards the dreary sky above. snowflakes stick to his reddening skin and cling to his eyelashes as he turns a sneer towards the heaven again, as if god will finally peer from its haven and witness its chosen one, scorned, after all this time.

“almighty arceus...” he breathes, ravenous and rancorous, a prayer and a curse, his sneer gone into a sardonic. with only the wilderness to hear his plea, he demands from the heavens again: “so, this is your altar, is it...? hidden away from humanity, where the birth of a new world begins... the final riddle i’ve been looking for! surely, you must have brought me here, haven’t you?”

silence. nothing. the world yawns and stretches on, suffocatingly quiet. the eye behind his curtain of his hair twitches, its gift long since taken from him. ( why, if god had any heart within it, would it rob him so?! why would it steal its blessing from him, and leave him to be cursed?! ) bitterness coats the back of his tongue, turning his smile sour, as he whispers a promise: “no... of course you have, of course. for a century, i’ve searched, solving every mystery... and now, you will heed my call.”

the fair winds of hisui flow gently against luca's skin, their knees pulled upwards against their chest as they sit amongst one of the region's highest cliffs to gaze out upon the sea below ⸻ how long have they been here by now ? a week ? a month ? throughout everything occurring within the land, luca has ... lost track completely. have they been here their entire life ? the gentle blue beneath them seems so comforting &&. familiar, but when they try to think on it more ... it hurts. akari scolded them not too long ago for pushing themself too hard ⸻ don't worry about your memory, she said, it'll come back to you in time. how much time must pass before they remember their true self ? they still glance to the strange device in their pocket for much - needed advice often, though the one guiding them has, since their last communication, been long since silent. a part of luca wonders if they've given up on them, or ... maybe one of the rampaging pokemon got to them, they don't know. small sigh passes through their lips as they realize they've gone from staring at the sea to watching the blank screen, staring at their own reflection. who are you ? they could spiral within their thoughts all day, lost in a whirlwind of emotions that they can't escape ⸻ but something startles them, pulling them out of their trance. it's footsteps against the grass behind them, &&. mask is quickly placed back upon their face as they turn to see who's found their spot. were they followed ? the hand that once held their phone is now reaching towards the bow upon their back.

What do you associate with my muse? || Accepting @arucrea

{ ooc. Oh I am 👁 at this

Any sort of flower that’s like caught in melting snow... an absolute banger piece of symbolism for Sarana and her entire story. A meadow of them?? Hell yeah, I vibe with that immensely, because that would literally be what happens once she and the other families bring the Shaymin back to Floaroma..

And the breeze stuff?? Hello hi, the idea of petals or leaves fluttering in the wind... idk if anyone’s noticed this but if I deliberately write about her cloak, or describe it, there’s always that underlying theme of that.

This is very sweet!!! I see you too are one of good taste…originshipping is very tasty. I’m happy people are enjoying them!! Paloma is a v great to partner and I love her steven so much tbh,

@arucrea​ asked:

NAMIIIII talking with you is a fucking delight whether its about pokemon, ffxiv, one piece, an unholy mix of all the above. i love bouncing ideas with you for headcanons, and considering the relationships between our muses, and rayquaza has always been one of my favorite pokemon, so seeing what you're doin with loki? fuckin aaaaaa+

@arucrea​​ said:

the pokemon do not bother she, and certainly do not seem to trouble he, and so they sit in companionable quiet. ashen one dares not to break quiet, only runs a hand atop the downy feathers of a fletchling as it perches between two, pecking idly at unruly mane of hair of his.

      Had times slowed so much in his mind that the quickness of a year was experienced in only a moment? The king sat idly, gaze darkened and overshadowed, it was hard to tell what he was thinking based on that perpetual scowl that remained over his lips. With time he had grown accustomed to strange encounters like this. Encounters that defied odds. He wasn’t sure which one this was, but it was surely mighty...He wondered who might speak first. The only one that seemed to be doing anything was the small bird, so familiar to him...

      AZ let out a softened sigh, his scowl still downward but his eyes were somewhat softer, weaker, as they passed over the small bird. It was surely having a time, he didn’t mind. In the past he might have, high and might that was what he used to be, used to consider himself. How a shell of his former self, and to think it was all the fault of his own sorrow and anger. When he finally spoke, the giant of a man’s voice was gruff, low, and tired.

The commotion easily caught his attention--so little disrupted Diamond’s daily life that Adaman have been too casual himself when it came to his duties ( it was hard to catch with how much he quite literally ran around doing things ), but the moment he himself is out looking for what he had presumed was going to be something larger than um....

this tiny horse.