(Made for @puzlprof)

Yet another Earth realm. So similar, yet so different.

This one seemed to exist in an era Dimentio was more comfortable in, with just enough technology without going all "futuristic". No giant screens or touch pads, no space elevators or talking billboards. Just a peaceful stroll through...

...the middle of London? Huh. Not quite where he was expecting to end up today, but so long as his disguise spell was active, he could work with it.

After moving past throngs of people in the busier business districts, he eventually encountered a grassier patch of streets to walk along. He remembered being here before, but not in this version of the world. Not much stood out as different at first, but as he turned a corner, a rather grand building emerged in his sights. He was immediately drawn to it.

"Gressenheller University," the sign told him. So it was an academic structure, though he probably could've guessed that on his own. It held a strong historic aura, what with its multiple chimneys, domes, and columns mirrored on both sides. He couldn't help but admire buildings like these, especially when they continued to stand firm as more and more newer constructions appeared around them.

Drawing more muses as puffballs. This time, it's @captainseamech and @puzlprof

The clad in green was curious of this visitor. Keeping to the shadows as he always does as his silver eyes watch every step he was taking.

Was this a guest of the Princess? He does not recall seeing such a clad in the Mushroom Kingdom before or even in Flipside and the residing dimensions.....

Curiosity was getting the better of him and he tries to get closer to hear what the other was talking about,but without being spotted.

@puzlprof ⧐ [ broken ] sender tries to stabilize receivers broken limb with rope and sticks. INJURY THEMED ASKS.

"...Where did you learn to set bone, from the back of a cereal box?"

Relying on help from a stranger had not been on his agenda for the day. But nor had stepping into what was ostensibly a bear trap been. Alastor could certainly sense and avoid a great many things. That did not mean he was entirely untouchable. Even a slight drop in his guard could have ramifications - as it had on this particular day.

And he would not be returning to the hotel to be seen in such a state before his ankle could mend properly.

But what this hooligan was doing - only looked towards for help due to lack of a desire to limp somewhere like a dying animal - was hardly helpful. It might have simply been better to kill him for being a passerby and abscond into shadow. But leaving a blood trial was not ideal either.

"I assumed when you offered to assist, you had an actual means of doing so - not material only fit for a caveman."

Gen was not having a good day.

There was...some good news, at least. The magnagate had worked. Kinda. He wasn't in the mystery dungeon world anymore, since there were humans around.

Unfortunately, he also couldn't find a single Pokemon here.

Aside from himself. Because he was still a Pokemon. Because of course the magnagate didn't make him human again. Because why should anything go right for him ever?

Now he was getting tons of stares from passerby as he waddled through this city.

It was a nice city, Gen supposed. But it wasn't Goldenrod.

He... was really something.

If she was used to any form of kindness, it was a rough one. Actions done by a gentleman were only things she's seen in movies or read in her fair share of books ⸺ she knew they were fake and fantasies, to never delve too deep and get lost in a pipe dream. Pomni was a smart woman, she could hold the bar realistically enough that she'd never expect or hope for this level of gentle behavior. A tentative care unlike anything she's ever experienced.

Her body often replaced her voice, speaking for her when her mouth didn't always. And to find someone that thought of her interesting enough to learn her silent language was extremely endearing and flattering. It's a little thing people normally overlooked, opting for basing everything just on words alone. But Pomni was a different kind of woman; though she was willing to freely state an opinion without fear, her feelings were more personable to share willingly.

First, his jacket; it acted almost like a safety blanket for a good while and she didn't rebuff allowing herself to take and keep it on her body. He was really trying his best to soothe and lull her out of mental musings, from reliving her nightmare once more.

Though, what really stripped her from the wax paper thoughts was a simple gesture, a loving one: his arm wrapping around her and keeping her close. It brought her immediately to attention, her colorful dual colored gaze shifting to meet his. Oh, she must've been worrying him without realizing it.

Pomni almost wanted to double down and just brush it aside, a little shy at the action but never once did she try veering from it. In fact, she instinctively even allowed herself to sway closer. His hold, his touch, made her feel safe ⸺ she never questioned what his hands would do to her; all she was sure of, was that these hardworking stamps placed on her curves, wouldn't hurt her. Not by a long shot.

And she felt it in her heart, his words had done plenty to ease any potential worries to melt from her shoulders. Her glove had gone to squeeze his in affirmation, a quiet way of justifying that she was okay for the moment. But it wasn't until his words hit her ears that her breath held in her throat, a mild look of surprise painting her features.

Him speaking that way, wasn't what was surprising. It was the shamelessness of wanting to do nothing more but set Pomni's mind at ease, to make her feel comfortable, like she was worth the patience and time of being loved. It... was still an adjustment for her to will herself into believing these kind words held merit towards her that wouldn't once fade after undesirable edges of herself began to show.

But for now, she'd allow herself his graces, closing her eyes and melding flush against his side with a subtle hum of her own, a smile creeping onto her lips.

*      .            ❛      n   -   no,   wait   !   it’s   okay,   i      —      i   didn’t   mean   that   you   had   to   go,   just      .   .   .      ❜         she   wipes   at   her   mask,   but   the   teardrop   never   leaves.   of   course   it   doesn’t.   gangle   offers @puzlprof   a   thread   -   bare   smile,   something   small   and   a   little   shaky,   but   real   nevertheless.

Recovering from Trauma - Accepting

@puzlprof

“Be kind with yourself; you deserve to heal and feel better.” to chamomile cookie

“I suppose it would be hypocritical of me to speak words of being kind to oneself if I can’t follow the same advice.” Chamomile spoke softly, giving a small smile to Layton, as her hands wrapped around the cup which held lavender tea within it that she had just poured from the teapot before pouring some out for the other.