#criimsonsun

[ From here -> ☾ ]

“Ah. Then I’ve heard of you. I thought my son had invented another version of me because he thought it funny.”

Ah but what you don’t know is that this short nerd actually has quite a bit of strength! He strains upwards despite the load upon him-

And is crushed even more.

Yeah, he’s just a joke.

They’re not having it.

“Knowing ‘me’...you might appreciate this one, I was going to consider keeping it for myself because it’s apparently a Dark type...but, maybe you would train it better”

[Text] From left to right Ther is Basil, Sage, Peppercorn, Dill, and Capers!

[Text] They are a bit of a handful, Especially Capers and Dill, Dills a little grumpy and Capers likes to get into everything.

@criimsonsun ☆

“I’m no IDIOT– obviously it is an essential organ to live.” He huffs quietly, nose wrinkled in DISTASTE. “But the spirit– that is unnecessary. Causes more grief than it is worth. To know joy is to know hate and to know peace is to know pain.”

Cyrus links his arms behind his back, a critical eye scanning the child up and down. “You are young. Inexperienced. Life has hardly started for you, but trial will come more than you have bee exposed to before. Is it worth it to live in a moment of happiness, I wonder?”

This argument is a broken record, and for all his travels, Cyrus has yet to understand the appeal. “To live without spirit…to leave without your spiritual HEART…I cannot think of a better future.”

This was recursive, a line of logic which fell far outside of sound reason. Xion had learned that hearts were stubborn little things. Take a couple memories, rub them together to create a feeling, and boom! A heart. Even an empty puppet could do it. Cyrus could toss his heart and it’d come right back, like a boomerang. 

Everyone who denied it had been a liar, conniving to their own ends. Cyrus had eyes of pale ice; But something about them echoed familiar. 

-In the weeks following Giovanni’s disappearance from Kanto and the subsequent disbandment of Team Rocket, Archer had considered a number of options. Giving up the ghost was the most immediate and, likely, the easiest of the bunch, but it had met with an incredulous laugh the few times he’d let the possibility cross his mind. Incredulous it was because for Archer, there was simply no turning back from the life he’d come to know and appreciate. Johto had seemed like the next logical conclusion, given its proximity and under-developed status. It would be easiest to disappear there and seep their influence into the budding infrastructure like poison in a water supply.

-As easy that decision seemed, Archer preferred being thorough rather than fall into the trap of complacency. To that end, he’d toured Hoenn for a week or so to test the waters there and found it lacking. There were too many variables given the small cluster of islands and marshy or rough terrain. Under better circumstances, he might have stayed longer to ensure there was nothing he was missing but the sheer mugginess of the air had been too much almost from the outset. Two days ahead of schedule, he’d made the decision to pursue Sinnoh instead.

-He’d planned for any number of eventualities, particularly given the... news climate revolving around the snowy region some time ago. The last thing he wanted was an unexpected visit with a blonde-haired Champion or an aura-attuned gentleman. When the first whisper of a rumor reached him of a certain scientist’s return, he’d found his attention turned more intently to the rumor-mill and gossip than to the environment and its suitability for rebuilding what had been lost. Where Hoenn had found his stay cut short, Sinnoh had opened the doors to more, resulting in almost two full weeks spent scouring the country-side for news, hoping to catch up with a man-- one of few-- Archer would give a great deal to meet in person.

-When his searching had finally come to a head and he’d found himself in Eterna City he was certain he’d misheard the local discussion or had gotten lost. He was very near packing his things when he’d stumbled across his goal; almost literally. There the man was, walking down a city street with that infamous thousand-yard stare, and Archer had nearly missed him. Standing from a city bench nearby, the Executive fell into step beside him and cleared his throat as obviously yet gently as he could.-