floaroanemoia

[floaroanemoia]

          "...Oh, for all that is— Not a single one of you would survive a day out on your own. Next you'll tell you'd jump head first into a frozen lake because 'freezing cold water is more refreshing'."

[floaroanemoia]

{ ooc. No-one:

Me, getting ready to talk about how Cogita's design is actually heartbreaking because it's heavily based on victorian-era mourning attire and because it's just black and no inclusion of white (save for her gloves/flowers) and lavender she's still in the first mourning stages over the almost total loss of the Celestica/her people and isn't moving on/hasn't moved on (very understandably) for almost 3000 years:

[floaroanemoia]

[floaroanemoia]

{ ooc. Watching the battle introductions for characters in pla (if they have one) so you can figure out what the Main Pose(tm) for their bw2 sprites probably would've been is realising that all characters except for ingo do what'd be the trainer sprite animation equivalent when introducing who you're facing off against

He does his after you move past that first text box 🧍‍♂️}

[floaroanemoia]

"No. No danger, I am afraid. I would not invite harm to another's abode. Besides, the shrine is far too close to my home-- I would be dooming you, myself and my people all at once, if there was any,"

"It is simply acts of childishness that have taken over. A plague of the most foolish variety."

❝ A-are you... in danger, miss? You are always welcome to— e-even you can stay at my place if that's better.

Uh... what's that whole tomfoolery thing you are talking about? ❞

[floaroanemoia]

@volot

"Now that is childish,"

Naturally, a set of words that is accompanied by her returning the favour. Completely straight-faced. Unamused. Unimpressed. Never mind how the corners of pursed lips twitch.

"See? Not funny. Very childish."

[floaroanemoia]

{ ooc. Thinking about how good Sarana's home life was growing up

Thinking about how she seems so composed calm serious and emotionally unavailable on her own but the moment she's with her parents she's just

making silly little jokes, not taking herself so seriously, and dotes on them as much as they dote on her

she loves her mum and dad in this essay i will-- }

[floaroanemoia]

{ ooc. Actually I forgot I made a post about this ages back but Visually(tm) and Speficially here are the places she has a chance to be at for each map

A gentle reminder that if Sarana was in Legends: Arceus, the main way you'd encounter her (before the post-game + when a quest line for Shaymin and all the Floaro stuff unlocks) would be her standing ominously in some tucked away spot on the map, being like "Oh hey you're looking for all the wisps that escaped from a keystone?? Lmao sucks to be you. yeah it's hard yakka, here's where i saw some" and putting the locations of 3 of them on the map in exchange for items and materials.

And then talking about something completely unrelated immediately afterwards/if talked to again.

And you get no explanation on how she can see them or what her deal is at least until the protag gets kicked out of Jubilife Village.

[floaroanemoia]

A gentle reminder that if Sarana was in Legends: Arceus, the main way you'd encounter her (before the post-game + when a quest line for Shaymin and all the Floaro stuff unlocks) would be her standing ominously in some tucked away spot on the map, being like "Oh hey you're looking for all the wisps that escaped from a keystone?? Lmao sucks to be you. yeah it's hard yakka, here's where i saw some" and putting the locations of 3 of them on the map in exchange for items and materials.

And then talking about something completely unrelated immediately afterwards/if talked to again.

And you get no explanation on how she can see them or what her deal is at least until the protag gets kicked out of Jubilife Village.

[floaroanemoia]

          ALMIGHTY ARCEUS ABOVE!                  BEHOLD THE GLORIOUS CONCLUSION TO                                            MY LONG EFFORT!  © &  ©

[floaroanemoia]

The Obligatory Sunday contribution:

↗ Hasn't even held someone's hand before.

[floaroanemoia]

eepy shaymin

[floaroanemoia]

“Either I’m embellishing a story for shocking effect, or I’m the only one telling the truth in a room full of liars.“ hi jess hows the weather

     A room full of liars.

     That is always what they have been—or, at least, those who played a hand in the young one’s banishment. Liars and thieves, who stumbled in upon the morning shore and in lieu of listening to the water and foam lapping at their feet, trying to usher them back into the sea, they tore themselves from it. When met with the vast land of Hisui, when their eyes fell upon the sight of fellow human beings who long knew the innerworkings of the region, they had claimed it theirs for the taking. A fresh canvas to build upon, even if it meant unknowingly using the foundations built by people millennia back. A dangerous, unviable place, that man had described it as, and the pokemon ��even more so. The campsites among toppled and crumbling ruins vital, even if they could serve the same purpose away from what was once towns or temples to honour the stars, the unknowable, but was still home to the surviving few.

     From day one, the very premise that village had been built upon was a lie, perpetuated by the loyal, the persecuted and the lost.

      Sarana’s brow furrows, lips drawing into a line for what feels to be the umpteenth time within the span of a few minutes. Heart strings are tugged and pulled, scraping along the depths of her chest. This has gone too far now. The Nobles falling victim to frenzy, the sky taking upon itself both patterns and colours described only in tales told to the medium when she was a little girl. And now, the hero—the child—who sought to stop it all has been cast out. Banished by that same, lost liar. Left to die over nothing more than ill-placed suspicion.

     And in the name of their people, no less. The Celestica.

    Perhaps it would be easier, to simply accuse Volo of lying. Point the fingers at him to give her mind one more chance to refuse the reality placed before her—of that brave, young soul being left to fend on their own, and maybe already no longer of this world. He is a man with the tendency to embellish, that is true. A theatrical heart when it comes to tales that must be made taller for a certain response, or to heighten the value of an item no rarer than the dirt beneath their feet. But that is simply it—for stories. For sales. And she knows the tones, the inflections, the dramatic gestures and expressions which accompany them.

     He wears neither. From a glance up, stare as piercing as it had been before—sharpened, and yet terribly guarded; like a cornered creature ready to strike out at the slightest provocation—, the woman can tell that much. And what reason would have Volo to lie about this? No, in fact, the hushed voice, the shifting nature of his gaze, it resembles more of those rarer times. When his own smile had faded with the sunlight, and solemn words followed suit. Even if the version he has told her sounds far direr, and infinitely more unfair on the child, Sarana cannot see him lying about this. Far more likely would it be that those of the village have downplayed the situation, either to preserve their own morality, to give Kamado the benefit of the doubt, or to reassure themselves that the one who fell from the sky would be just fine on their own.

    Out there. In the cold climate of Hisui. With a couple of days to learn what she had been taught for over a decade, just to have the faintest chance of surviving more than a week.

          “…Very well, I believe you,”

     Fingers unlace themselves from beneath the medium’s chin, and with a swift movement, she falls back into the chair, a huff of air escaping from her form. Her head turns, and eyes shift to that accursed building’s side, inwardly cursing how it dares to take its colours from the sunrise. She must find them—before something else does. Something dangerous, or someone willing to prey on vulnerabilities. With the sun setting, and hours slipping by, there would be no time to assemble the others for a search party. They are too far; too spread out around the land. Sophora should be fast enough—her Ninetales and Zoroark proficient enough to track their scent. But perhaps, with this much knowledge on their situation, he might have heard the faintest hint of a last known location.

          “Volo. Where were they left? Do you know anything about where they might be?”

[floaroanemoia]

Is this you?

Put "Is this you?" in my askbox and my character will respond to yours finding an old picture of them || Accepting

She had thought herself careful enough, in this latest visit to Jubilife Village. Smart enough to keep a certain section of frames hanging from the exterior of a certain studio from the warden’s view as they walked into town. How foolish Sarana had been, to underestimate his perceptiveness so. A stroll back to the gate, utterly derailed when footsteps carried the man off to observe that dreaded photo. Would it be best to feign ignorance? Insist that it was not her, but instead a villager attempting to mimic every facet of her appearance? No, that would be far too obvious a lie—far too easy to see through, when hers is a cloak belonging to so few.

Yet here Sarana stands, damned is she does respond truthfully, and damned if she does not

“Hm?”

The sound slips from her without much thought, accompanying the way in which the woman chooses to look over her shoulder. And indeed, red eyes settle upon him and a gesture aimed at the piece in question. A harmless photo, really. The medium sitting upon a chair, legs together and angled off to the side, hands clasped atop her lap, accompanied by an equally as posed Alolan Ninetales. Of course, none of her beloved ghost-types had been allowed to participate—how could they, when the village still fears so, perhaps more than other kinds of pokemon? Nevertheless, by all accounts, it quite a flattering photo—the sort that exudes an air of regalness; of poise earned from life lived with purpose by one who knows their own worth.

She is simply not used to posing for such things, lest it be a rare portrait.

“Oh—yes. Unfortunately so,”

Perhaps it had been a mistake, giving in to pleads and reasonings. Goodness knows how many of those the woman knows have seen it by now. And how many more have silently scrutinised her appearance? Would they truly stoop to such levels of a mere picture? Whether the worry lies in truth or paranoia, Sarana knows not. However, with the hole she has already dug herself into with Ingo—why, she might as well turn it into a tunnel. Something of use; a way to escape her surroundings.

“I cannot claim to be one who likes being the subject of a photograph, but… well, they simply would not leave us alone.”

[floaroanemoia]

Hey I’m Sorry if this offends you, but I find you really attractive and I’d like you to be my sugar baby, just letting you know my intentions Incase you will be interested...we could talk terms and weekly allowance later...just basically paying for your time ....no sexual relationship.. 1000bucks weekly allowance text me on Whatsapp if interested

"..."

Aaaand another note to burn among the others tonight. Such unchecked audacity would be good fuel for a cooking fire.

[floaroanemoia]

Crimes

WANTED: Sarana, alive. REASON: Assassinated an official. LAST SEEN: 7/2/1879 in Virginia. NATIONAL PRIORITY: 6 DANGER LEVEL: Very high BOUNTY: $1,000,000

[floaroanemoia]

{ ooc. Can be platonic or romantic! }