#lostandfoundintheforest

Hoe odd, that of all of those in Sinnoh, he would come face to face with her.

Giovanni had been in the region (illegally) enough to have heard of and to recognize the young champion when he came across her.  He slowed to a stop--relaxing into a stern but casual position, hands slipping into his pockets as his Persian sat by his side.

There was something about her---oh, no, she certainly had the energy of one who had what it took to seize the title of champion, but, it was something else.  Not exactly the youth, but something similar; naivety, perhaps, on a minor scale, one who hadn’t exactly seen the worst the world had to offer.  Worn down, indeed, by the inconveniences of life, but free from the grand tragedies that so thoroughly plagued this world.  

He wondered if such a person could truly be called a champion.

He lifted his head in acknowledgement, the slightest hints of a sly smile picking up at the corners.

“Champion.”

The greeting was genuine.

“Shh.”  Ozai quietly hushed his designated advisor as he approached.  Their proximity was likely inappropriate; but they were in private quarters and there was no one to see.  

His hands fiddled behind her neck before he withdrew--examine the necklace he placed on her.  Jewelry wasn’t excessively common in the Fire Nation, but, sometimes there were beautiful pieces.  This one, in particular, reminded him of the constellations in the sky.  

Quentin paused, marker in midair, turning to look at her.  

"Maybe," he said cryptically, with a smug grin.  "What do you want?  Do you want it painted?  Or--maybe, laser engraved? Or--maybe, I can set you up with a projector system, customizable on a whim, indistinguishable from art."

Gemüse picked at the flowers cradled in his arms.  They were rather expensive, but he didn’t have any idea what they meant, if they meant anything.  He just thought they were pretty; a nice arrangement of purples.

It seemed the shop had been cleaned up after their rather bloody and ketchup-y bout.  Whether it was the Agency’s involvement or not, Gemüse didn’t know.  He just knew his supervisors were pissed that he had made a mess and that at least two mundanes had seen magic in action.

What was important, though, is that the incident was isolated.  Only two people had seen the incident, and only one had seen the actual magic.  Worst case scenario, some people thought a few loonies were running about.  

So maybe the Agency didn’t get involved.  In some cases, they’d go the whole 10 miles; they had a time wizard and everything; who’d revert the effects of the fight, people who’d clean up the corpses.  Psychics who’d erase the memories of the people who had seen what had happened. 

For all intents and purposes, the event wouldn’t have happened.

If they did go that route, Gemüse explicitly requested that the one girl’s memory not be erased.  His superiors feared him enough to not risk going against something so simple.  

“--for crying out loud, Simon, why would you even drive the car if you knew it had a problem?” It seemed that the duo was in the middle of a conversation--argument?--as they entered the shop, Cyril exasperated, one hand holding his hat on his head as he followed behind a grim, but determined Simon.

“...I didn’t think the problem was that bad,” Simon grumbled, not turning to look at his partner.  

“I--”  Cyril decided to not comment on that, sighing and running a hand down his face.  “What are you even planning to do?”

“We need a car towed,” Simon stated, hardly giving Cyril time to finish.

“I don’t think they even have a tow-truck here Simon, why didn’t you just call for a tow truck...”

Fei had long since tuckered himself out when it came to running. He’d slowed to a walk, helplessly confused, but at least taking better care of his aching feet, looking down to try and actually avoid sticks and pointed rocks. 

It was during one of his quick glances up that he noticed it--a house in a tree.  

Casimir was...not entirely sure what he was looking at. 

Standing on the edge of an overgrown temple, he watched a woman wrap herself in vines and lift herself from the ground. The magic seemed to have the natural flow and ease that he would expect from a fae, and yet...that was the only thing fae about her. 

She could have been a very powerful witch, but...it seemed odd to him that she was strange to him. After all, he rarely met new people, given his age and position. So, he decided to fix that. 

He approached, clapping his hands to alert her of his presence, hoping not to startle her too badly. 

“You’re far too young to be talking about being destined for something so terrible. You have only lived a fraction of your life, the majority of which would have been largely controlled by other people and things outside of your control.” 

He wasn’t sure if he should be amused or worried at how this generation seemed to give up and see themselves as past their prime at the starting line of their lives.