#mineralhalf

❝ my what? ❞ there are multiple things wrong with the statement- the first being that morpheus belonged to no one. the second being the fact that tyrre's decided to call a primordial deity a 'weird haunted cotton ball'. for the rest of the things wrong, tobias isn't sure if he wants to actually get into that. behind him, morpheus bristles.

❝ the gods do not visit mortals without reason, tyrre. you know this as well as i do. ❞ as for morpheus' reasoning? it is because tobias cares about tyrre. tobias cares for all of his friends.

tobias is good and devout. he lights candles and says prayers every night. he knows the hymns that echo in the space-time basilica. the old scripture is his gospel, and he will pay the price ⎛ god's mantle wrapped around his neck. meant to strangle the humanity from him; meant so that he would die to be reborn among the very entities he bowed to. morpheus' greatest gift and deepest betrayal of his beloved oracle. ⎠

     ❝     me?     ❞     who else?     unless she’s asking cannoli but the zorua is     …     neither a boy nor something you would use the term,     ‘pretty boy’     to describe.     (     even so she still perks her ears up at the words,     having been laying on the ground in the surrounding silence ‘til the first of what would be many words to come filtered through the air.     )     he wouldn’t call himself an exceptional cook but he isn’t bad at it either——     he isn’t necessarily a michelin star chef but     …     he knows for a fact that he’s far more skilled than the average person     /     he has his innate need to learn more expertise to thank for that.     &͟.     if he tags along that only means one thing:     both he     &͟.     cannoli will be the honorary taste testers for the day     &͟.     no actual cooking will be needed from him.     (     he’s become acquainted with tyrre enough to consider her an actual,     genuine friend     &͟.     to know that most of these endeavors end up with him being there solely for moral support,     both him     &͟.     cannoli alike.     )     a shame that mascarpone     &͟.     éclair had decided not to tag along,     instead deciding to explore the woods near the hotel,     with tiramisu on their tracks because as competent as both the espeon     &͟.     purrloin were,     the zoroark would always serve better as a bodyguard in case of any sudden ambushes.     (     &͟.     it’s been a while anyway,     since she’d decided to go anywhere opposed to staying inside     &͟.     sleeping the day away,     old as she was getting now.     )     maybe if they make enough of     …     whatever the dish of the day will be,     he can bring some back for them to try     /     or maybe he’ll use this as a learning lesson——     they hadn’t put in any effort to,     ‘help’     so they wouldn’t indulge in the fruits of their labor.

     ❝     okay,     ❞     chipper,     with a sing songy lilt to boot,     a tone of voice that is followed by a yip from the companion at his feet,     who matches the energy released into the air whenever she hears that genuine ebullience.     (     they’re one in the same,     intricately connected in ways unbeknownst even to them——     weaved together via invisible threads.     )     he needn’t tell her what to do,     she gets it near instantaneously     &͟.     soon enough is the zorua scampering ‘round     &͟.     ‘round the other’s feet in a circular motion,     much like a race track whilst she yips with unbridled impatience.     each bark an inquiry of,     ‘can we go now?’     ❝     cannoli wants to join us too.     she can,     right?     ❞     

In truth, she's never been high up, aside from going up a mountain or two. If she was brave enough to take to the sky, would she be hiding out in Lumiose? Would she have had the heart to grip someone far-flying off the rails and pull him by the ankles to the dirt below? Or would she have failed again? She's not sure. She just knows that flight is frightening but the sky is beautiful. (That much, she thinks, she might understand about her brother's...interesting...trip.) "I always get too scared to take a pokemon up, and flying taxis are so shaky..."

❝ If I thought you were bad luck, you wouldn't be permitted within eyesight of our ship, much less invited on board. ❞

It's delivered in the same cheery tone he delivers most of his jokes, but the sentiment itself is a truthful one. There's already been some (rightful) pushback against the idea of allowing Spinel's sister to look around onboard, where something as simple as a single severed wire could be enough to send them all falling to their deaths, but Friede had had a long, long conversation with Cap about it.

And as every Rising Volt Tackler knows: Cap's word was law.

Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, isn't that how the famous saying goes? A shame there was no mention of what to do with your enemies' relatives, but Friede has always been good at working with what he has. They'd settled on a compromise eventually, an agreement between all the crew that Tyrre would be kept under supervision at all reasonable opportunity.

An easy task, given that Friede has already volunteered to be the one responsible for keeping her company most often. Cap had, of course, agreed to pick up the necessary slack, deeming it all just another part of a captain's responsibility. He's waiting for them now, in fact, perching himself way up in the Murkrow's nest and barking impatient orders at the pair of them to hurry up and get on with it, already! The Brave Olivine wasn't built to hover!

With a nod of acknowledgement, Friede jogs halfway up the entry ramp, casting a look back at her from over his shoulder.

Do I know your muse(s):  yes | no | a little | tell me about your muse

Setting: our verse | my verse | your verse | modern | alternate universe | other

Pre-established relationships? yes | no | depends on the relationship

Possible relationships: friends | classmate | co-worker | roommate | family, real or adopted | dating or blind date | married | friends with benefits | unrequited love | lending a hand | teacher - student | rivals | allies | partner-in-crime | enemies | protecter - guarded | business partners | spy - infiltrated | manipulator - manipulated | star-crossed | first meeting | other 

I’m in the mood for: fluff | angst | horror | romance | humor | crime | hurt / comfort | action | supernatural | slice of life | crack | dark threads | light threads | any genre | multi-para | shorter para | one-line | any length | plotted threads | unplotted threads | other

" i dun't really think i'd like tu stay in sume hutel, i've already gut sumewhere tu stay!! and i dun't really spend must my time in lumiuse uuh...when yu feel like leaving the city, i can shuw yu!! i think the pukemun wuld really like yu arund snuwbelle. ur really anywhere!! "

@mineralhalf asked: "Mister Leon, what's your family like?" She's asking it while carefully arranging a boxed lunch: a service provided by the hotel, for those willing to pay a little extra for travel meals (it's useful whenever it's a younger trainer or someone with a specific palate, but she won't judge whatever reason he has for ordering). Anything but talking about why she's here, Tyrre will do; the pieces of the meal carefully forming a nice, small sandwich, fruits, salads, some sausages, and the only marañuelas she could find this side of Kalos (those are much more commonly a Paldean sweet -- she's lucky Lumiose's bakeries are willing to try their hands at them). "Don't gotta answer if you don't want. Your lunch'll be ready in a minute, anyway."

Amias, his gangly, long-limbed Sylveon, makes another attempt to jump up onto the counter and snatch a rogue sausage for himself. It's not enough, apparently, that most of the lunch's contents will be shared amongst his Pokémon as they take their usual break in Centrico Plaza — Amias wants more, wants to eat his own weight in fried meat and still come back for another serving. It's as if he's never been fed before in his life.

Leon snatches him out of the air, smoothly scooping him up into a baby carry instead. It's one of the only ways he can stop the squirmy little thing from escaping his arms again, even if he does occasionally get smacked in the face by a flailing ribbon or two. Amias scowls as much as a Sylveon can, the expression almost comical on such a cute little kitty face, but Leon's hold doesn't falter. Those eyes have long since stopped working their fairy magic on him.

❝ No, it's fine. I don't mind talking about it at all! ❞

❝ I'm lucky enough to have a big family. A load of siblings, most of 'em brothers, a boatload of cousins, my mum 'n grandparents down in Postwick, my dad in Almia, and my wife here in Lumiose. Our teams all factor into that too, of course, but if I listed every one of those I'd be here all day! ❞

Leon wants to flip the question back around, but is cautious about doing so. Family can be a rough topic for some, and he's got enough social awareness to know that it's probably not the best topic to lead with when chatting with someone he doesn't know all too well. Best to keep the focus on himself instead.

"She only has seven toes total!"

     an espurr     …     with a bonnet?     the cuteness aggression that rushes within his bloodstream     &͟.     throughout his entire circulatory system is messily contained at best——     they reach upwards,     in attempts to snatch her from the other’s grasp but have to restrain themself with the curling of digits into palms,     in the form of fists.     (     &͟.     he squeezes,     hard,     enough to cause crescent shape indents in the skin via fingernails     /     though he isn’t particularly bothered by the stinging pain because he has this beautiful creature to gawk at.     his sisters had told him once that he resembled one of these pokémon     &͟.     that it’d be a perfect fit for him in case he’d ever encountered one to rehabilitate.     maybe they’d had a point after all.     )     ❝     she is rather cute,     ❞     cute enough to nearly make a grown man cry.     (     him,     of course.     )     what he wouldn’t do to have her in his grasp instead,     to cradle her much like a baby,     cannoli’s jealousy be damned!     but she’s not his,     she isn’t     &͟.     it would be rather uncouth of him to steal away a pokémon without explicit permission     /     &͟.     without the espurr’s consent first,     above all,     sentient beings as they were. 

     &͟.     not only does she have a bonnet on but she only has     …     seven toes total?     if it weren’t embarrassing     &͟.     unbecoming of him he’d lay down,     here,     on the cold,     concrete ground     &͟.     wallow in his unwavering despair.     (     because she isn’t his.     )

     ❝     ah,     ❞     all he can say,     really,     in case he spontaneously bursts into tears——     no,     he can’t.     they’re friends,     yes,     &͟.     she knows more about him than most people will ever come to know but     …     crying in front of her isn’t a goal he wants to reach quite yet.     so instead he smiles,     a forced grin that is clearly faltering at the edges,     emerald optics watery     &͟.      his voice clearly strained.     ❝     i hadn’t noticed that.     ❞

Staaaares at her. Quietly gives her a handful of pretty feathers she found on the ground.

a long stare. her eye unblinking and wide as she stared directly at tyrre. she stares a little longer, barely even looking at the handful of feathers. a long silence followed...then...