#lysandre.

good god is he a magnificent bastard that I always just, loved to make fun of. That's really kind of the problem, he's not here on the blog because it was hard for me to respect him and do the character justice. The kind of slimeballs that I can play are.....something else. over the top.

But he's such a good narrative. idk I always really relished in pokemon and other media starting to have the literacy of heroic extremism. of antagonists not necessarily thinking they are 'bad guys'.

it really wasn't that long before then that people, 90s people, were not so nuanced. you were good, or you were bad, or you were failing at those.

IDK, it's like i don't know what to think of him but in a good way? I'm very glad that there was a character who induced such a primal rage and bothering instinct that my ass had to rp and be silly about it.

made everything in my life better, indirectly, despite the bastardness of it. scorched earth phase of my life. it would have been a long time, if ever, that i met anyone here were it not for him being so compelling. I wouldn't be RPing today.

Also glad that he gave my muse like.....a forever plot point. nice threat my guy you made me stronger and enabled. choke on it!

Friends.

Sometimes, though confined within a shard of it's shell, it would appear. It would wisp around like a wishing star, glimmering and excited for only the young to see. For only its friend, even if it craved for more. It had company, for now, even if it knew that most forgot. Most left it, most could not see it anymore.

Perhaps that was its price for lending it's body for use so long ago. Let it's shell be crushed and concocted to assist in making a dream come true...but with it, allowed it to attach, to influence, to befriend and know.

It liked its friend, even if most were temporary. It had hope that this one would not cover his eyes like so many others with time.

For none that knew it would ever be alone again, not for as long as it could. Not for as long as imagination brewed, and it remained lively in its glow. Even as it slumbered away so long ago.

Oh...it's memory. No matter how many times it split, it dreamt, it lived...it always remembered those that it befriend, those that it knew, and ultimately those that forgot it. That left it. Let it be through the tasks of time, through imagination no longer fueling their form, or for people's blindness.

It always remembered.

' i remember you. when you were not so tall, and were not so blinded by what made you forget. i see you now, how happy i am, when friends come back. '

" i hope you don't mind me barging in the like this... "

@flarefeu asked:

"Did you think you could be rid of me, my flower?"

" you should be DEAD! "

Diantha's hands tightened around the handle of her revolver, it wasn't often she brought it out, it wasn't often she had it at all. Yet at the sight of this man--he wasn't a man anymore, he was dead, he was supposed to be dead, this had to ahve been a nightmare--she could not help but to point it's barrel directly at him.