#thevisionaryreturns

Nate /  Kyouhei - by Myst

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Hilda / Touko - by Acree

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Hilbert / Touya - by Ricky

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Rosa / Mei - by Emme

“You-”

Toku didn’t mean to stare, but when the brown-haired man came in, his eyes were locked on him. He knew that face, he was the one who exposed Ghetsis for who he really was. The one who helped Toku see the light before it was too late, although they’d never met.

kchak. kchak. kchak. kchak. kchak--

snap.

the pencil's lead breaks, and rolls down the page and onto the dirt.

he's stuck again, and it tires him greatly. he's always stuck with human language-- there are always words that are redundant and words that are missing.

he drums his fingers briefly on the notebook in thought until he realizes his fingers are getting coated in excess graphite-- and soon after that, he notices it isn't just his fingers. the side of his right palm has turned entirely metallic black.

"tsk..." n clicks his tongue, setting his half-finished poetry and his pencil aside to stand. there's a stream nearby, and his left hand is still clean enough that, provided he's careful, he could clean off his hands without getting any graphite in the stream. failing that, he could always ask a pokemon nearby-- when there's water, there's most often water-types. perhaps a walk might refresh his mind, too.

he leaves the notebook where it is on the ground, open to the page he was working on. it isn't like anyone is going to take it, he can't imagine what monetary value the ramblings of a false-king-turned-vagabond could possibly have, especially with its rapid oscillation between incredibly verbose and one word a line, poetry and diary entries, and between letters, shapes, and numbers.

it's a short walk there, but he runs over his poem again in his mind as he breathes in the scent of wet soil and a breeze that had yet to reach the little clearing he wrote in, hoping something new might come to mind now.

i am dissolving, but not mixing. oil and water, neatly divided. the flesh separates from the bones. do not raise or lower the temperature. i am melting, but not mixing. separate beakers, separate fluids. the foods on the plate must not touch. do not raise or lower the temperature. i said, do not raise or lower the temperature. keep your hand off the dial. you touched it. you turned it. you changed it. i am soluble, and i am mixing. i am melting and dissolving and mixing. black and white swirl around me, and though they do not mix, i begin to see grey. i am ammonia and bleach. my thoughts swirl too, loose liquid mercury inside of my skull. my skull no longer exists, but my thoughts still do. it's all i can do to think. i cannot feel, physically or emotionally. the swirling took it away with the rest of me. it's dizzying euphoric terrifying wonderful painful ...

he's returning now, drying his now-clean hands with a shake, then a quick pat on his pant legs for the water that still clung to his palms. he steps back into the clearing.

"ah--!?"

he hadn't managed to come up with an ending during his short break, but...

he doesn't feel like that matters anymore. not for now, at least.

♛– N couldn’t bear the overall pressuring emptiness of his delapidated castle. It was pretty obvious why, come to think of it. This had been the house where he had been raised in, and what had once been a... more or less stable shelter had ended up becoming a reflection of his father’s psyche, and the harm he had done to his son. The hallways and rooms were empty, the air was chilly even in the summer, and despite the still functioning lights, the fact that the castle was technically underground made him feel like he was sinking into a darkness he had been trying to avoid.

...He needed fresh air.

Route 13. 

The distant murmur of the waves kissing the shore prompted him to walk on the sand, and stare at the horizon, while the sun was getting ready to set. Slowly, he sat down, not moving his eyes from the skyline. 

He felt at peace, but deep down... he knew there was something missing. And he knew what it was, but... 

...No, I don’t deserve to look at him in the eye. Not after so long.

During his journey, the day where he didn’t think of the one he considered his ‘fellow hero’ was rare. He... had been the major reason he had decided to get out of Unova in the first place. Because he had inspired him to make up for the lost time of his socially inept life. To see the world, to meet other people and customs, to view life and relationships between humans and Pokémon from a different perspective. He had taught him so much, provoked so much thought in him, and what had N done in exchange?

Leave. And no matter how justified it was... N’s silent feelings of worthlessness often chewed away at him. 

He whinced, gritting his teeth lightly to prevent any major emotion. No matter how much he had grown in the past 2 years... he still failed to feel as human as he yearned to.

Starter Call

Oh no! She didn’t realize the boy she was going to be helping today was Unovan! She only hoped he knew some Kantonese. Hikari knew very little Unovan, not enough to even hold a conversation. She heard from Cynthia that this boy battled her while she was visiting Unova. For some reason Hikari didn’t put two and two together of him being from the actual region.