#but so far emmets not budging

[mushtoons]

Wait so are all of you guys fans of TMNT, or do some of you have different hyperfixations? Can you explain how that works?

What happens when some of you want to watch/draw something but others don’t? (Sorry for all the sudden questions, I’m just super curious! You guys don’t have to answer at all if I’m crossing any boundaries <3)

-💜

your fine!! most of the time louis and molly get hella hyperfixated and much like people on our dash they spam enough times (aka do so much with the fixation) its kinda spreads

some like it more than others while some dont like it at all, but this being our main blog yall only really see our biggest fixations lol

red and louis share the most hype for tmnt while me (hi!! im amy!!) molly and a few others just tag along cuz its fun and drawing them while one or the other co fronts is nice bonding time for us

as for when we wanna do something that is solely an us thing, we either just go ahead and do it or ask, other times we have like a turn list for like movies or the radio! art wise we usually just do what we want unless we switch mid piece, then depending on who it is we either leave their stuff alone or add our own touch to it

[pika-ace]

Legends Arceus - Silver Phantoms AU: The Red Sky Aftermath

I'm having Rei and Akari friendship feels and I have an itch to ponder about what Ingo and Emmet likely went through while captured by Kamado, so lets take a break from the future and go back to Hisui, shall we? Let's get sad! :D

(Small warning for minor descriptions of violence?)

Now obviously, the events of the Red Sky fucked EVERYBODY up emotionally. Innocent spirits were kidnapped, Almighty Sinnoh turned out to be two different Pokemon, we found out a merchant single-handedly fucked up the world with the help of Pokemon Satan, A LOT happened.

If you remember in the initial Red Sky post, Kamado apologized to the Phantom Family for what he did and basically used Volo's arrest and imprisonment to make himself feel better since he now has the REAL culprit of the space-time rift. However, the same absolutely CAN NOT be said for our favorite Phantoms. Kamado may have followed through on his promise to not let the Phantoms see him again, but that doesn't stop the nightmares and slight PTSD that this poor little family suffered because of it.

Akari has vivid nightmares of the Stone Portal where Volo had her captive, his Garchomp hovering over her, and others where she's desperately trying to find her Uncles, but can't ever find them. She always wakes up in tears and crawls to where her Uncles are sleeping (Akari got a separate sleeping spot when she became 13 and Ingo and Emmet share a sleeping spot [insert mandatory Blankshippers DNI statement here]).

And Emmet and Ingo don't fare much better. While Volo didn't hurt Akari, as he didn't want to damage the one person who could potentially lead him to Arceus, Kamado...wasn't as kind. As I said before, they were tied up in a dungeon, and after letting them stew, Kamado began his interrogation. It only lasted for a day or two since Akari, Rei, and the wild Pokemon all staged their attack soon after, but to the twins, it felt like years. See, Kamado may have his own Pokemon, but he's definitely a more 'do it yourself' kind of guy; the dude has armor for fuck's sake, and I bet you anything he has a sword. Kamado wanted the twins to tell him more about the space-time rift, but obviously, the two aren't going to budge because they don't know jack, AND because they want to know where Akari is. Ingo says as much to him, and Emmet (who's likely gagged so he won't interfere and if we're taking the angle of him being non-verbal due to a wound it just adds insult to injury) instantly gets the tip of Kamado's blade to his throat. Thankfully, Kamado never goes too far, but he does give a few shallow cuts to draw blood to get his point across. He knows how close these Phantoms are to each other, so he knows that he can easily use the other to make one break.

So we basically got two different flavors of nightmares here for the twins. Ingo can barely bring himself to sleep because every time he closes his eyes, he sees Emmet at the mercy of Kamado's blade, helpless to stop it. Kamado easily picked up that Ingo was the softer of the two, valuing his loved ones more than himself, and he exploited that to a pulp. And Emmet also forgoes sleep to go out and train because while he was captured and used as Ingo's pressure point, it was the first time he was truly helpless. And he HATED IT. He's the strong one! He's the first line of attack! He's the one who's supposed to keep Ingo and Akari safe, and yet Kamado had him underfoot with no effort and caused Ingo to suffer! Emmet had to watch Ingo BEG Kamado not to hurt him while desperately insisting that they knew nothing of the rift and it just makes him want. To. SCREAM.

Needless to say, it was a good long while before any of them went ANYWHERE alone ever again. Akari was given stricter curfews and was told to tell Emmet and Ingo ANYTIME she was going anywhere and HAD to bring a Pokemon buddy with her at all times. Ingo and Emmet became even more joined at the hip and became WAY jumpier. It's not a fun time.

But they aren't the only ones! Poor Rei was put through the wringer as well, being manipulated, betrayed, banished, and put up against forces far bigger than him in a very short span of time! His Deuteragonist status had him bite off way more than he could chew and he was told to sit there and take it. But none of that holds a candle to how petrified he was when Akari was kidnapped. While a few of his nightmares involve Kamado banishing him or the Galaxy Team hunting him down, most of them involve Akari, with him being helpless to save her and watching Volo take her away forever and sometimes very violent images of Kamado killing her. After waking up screaming for the fifth time that week, Rei sneaks out of Jubilife and seeks out Akari. Luckily, Akari finds him only a few moments after he calls for her and she finds him an emotional mess. Tears are streaming down his face, his breathing is shallow, and all he can say is that he doesn't want to go home and that he needs to know she's okay. Akari immediately takes Rei back to her home where her Uncles gladly allow him to stay and manage to get him to sleep next to Akari. It's the first night in a while that Akari doesn't wake up from a nightmare, cuddled up against Rei.

The next morning, Rei tells Laventon that he wants to stay with the Phantoms for a few days. He just...really doesn't want to be away from Akari right now. Laventon completely understands, and Cyllene even writes it off as Rei going off and doing some long-term surveys so it doesn't look like Rei's shirking his work. Living in the wild with the Phantom family is definitely different, but honestly, Rei is with Akari, who's safe, and that's all he needs. While he's with them, Akari's mood seems to brighten considerably, taking him around on little walks and outings, and she sleeps more soundly with Rei than she has ever since the sky returned to normal. Ingo and Emmet notice this and are very glad this is the case, but they can tell that Rei is still troubled. So they take him aside to talk.

Rei tells them how terrible he feels about the whole thing, and how he felt like everything was his fault, but Ingo and Emmet quickly squash that notion. Being manipulated by Volo was absolutely not his fault; there was no way he could've known about Kamado's plan or his alliance with Volo, he's just a child for Sinnoh's sake! They then tell Rei that they're basically indebted to him; why? Because if it wasn't for him, Ingo, Emmet, and Akari would still be captured and separated. It was Rei's determination to do the right thing and his bond with Akari that set all the events in motion that led to their freedom. They said back then that Rei had saved Akari's life and they meant every word of it, and they honestly don't know if there's any possible way to repay him for bringing their baby girl back to them, safe and sound. Rei saved them all, and Ingo, Emmet, and Akari would always remember that, for as long as they lived.

After that, Rei starts bawling and gets a Submas Group hug. Afterward, Akari comes in to take Rei on another outing since it's a nice day, and Rei looks much happier than he did when he first arrived. It takes about a week before Rei feels comfortable going back home to Jubilife. The nightmares still occur, but far less frequently, for both Rei and Akari.

[bitebitesnap]

Ghost Pipe AU

Aight y'all here's this thing.

Weird format because it's literally cut and pasted from discord to a google doc then here lol

-yeets under the cut-

'okay so

you're a scientist studying a recent meteor shower; supposedly some of the rocks are fragments of a planet destroyed during a rogue planet crashing into it

among the wreckage, strange seeds are found. the consensus is to let them grow in a contained environment

the first plants grow, a unique alien green and vivid purple leaved..thing... doesn't look like any plant you know

so they remain in containment, growing along nicely

as they grow (rather quickly) you go home, you'd been there all day

to find your barn in a wreck

it's still standing, but, there;s some nasty holes in the roof about the size of an apple

nothing seems broken tho so, it's fine???

must have just been excess from the meteor shower or some trashy neighbors

days go by, the plants get bigger, about the height of your hips. they remain very still, disconcertingly so. no reactions to sunlight nor water, but they consume both normally

they remain completely stagnant no matter what and it's weird

also might smell just a bit too sweet for no particular reason

the leaves feel somewhat....fuzzy? sticky?? it's kind of like touching a rubber sticky hand but with little bitty bumps all over

they also snap closed like flytraps if you touch them, curling up towards the stems

still nothing, despite them taking a whole 3 days to reach what is assumed to be their maturity at hip height. you leave it at that, the studying will continue with or without you

at home things are....weird

things are not where you put them outside, pots are moved, for whatever reason it looks like the racoons got into the potting soil

you leave it at that, continuing the study regardless of the mess outside then it spreads further

things on your porch are moved, muddy marks smeared across the door the next day, 

.....there's a trail of dirt treaded through the entirety of the entryway/kitchen

and the tracks on the walls are almost in the shape of fingers

Police are called but they can't find anything. despite the dirt there are no discernible footprints nor fingerprints

it's written off as a stray animal

but you know that's not true]

how could an animal open a locked door

days pass, you're staying at a friends house, the study continues 

absolutely nothing of note, beyond the plant 'flowering' strange, tubelike bulbs shaped like dripping wax

you end up going back to your house, there's paperwork you forgot about that's important to the study

 .............the place is a wreck

dirt and mud is everywhere, spread across the walls and doors outside, clumps of wildflowers and grass tossed around wildly. the inside is, somehow, almost fine

if you didn't count the absolute trashing of everything you own being tossed to the floors in every room as if it had been ransacked

as far as they know, the odd human just up disappeared without reason. they...might have thrown a bit of a fit more Emmet than Ingo

of course you go to call the police again, but you stop dead there's a mirror in your bedroom, untouched remarkably, the wall opposite reflected perfectly it's a set of handprints, dark mud shaped around four, misshapen and clawed fingers ........something clatters outside a shadow zips across the window with pounding footsteps away from the house, off the porch and across the backyard its getting late, the sun is setting at just the right angle to cast the house's shadow over the lawn the shape disappears into the pitch black barn without a sound

you cross the backyard, giving chase 

someone was in your house, the police would not stop them 

the shotgun was old, but it did it's job well enough

the barn door is old and rusted, left open for far too long in too many storms 

it won't budge an inch as you nudge your way in 

...it's very dark in the twilight 

you pull out your flashlight 

....there's not much in the barn, just a few bales of excess hay and the old tractor your father left you, rusting away in the derelict place 

...the sunset beams in through the holes in the roof, casting a faint ethereal glow to the dust motes in the air

you move in closer, investigating 

.......something wriggles out of sight, against the far wall

you yell, but nobody answers 

it's quiet

 ..............the walls are old, wood rotting near the bottom 

mold might be growing on it, or maybe it was just mud

 ......the hay bales are mostly to the back, out of the way of work during the day, they line the furthest walls on both sides 

.....some of them have been knocked down, hay is scattered everywhere ......................something slides behind a cluster of bales, piled hastily and in a sloppy clump

the hay, though tall, didn't reach the back wall, just enough room to squeeze through

but you don't, you're not stupid

wisely, you go to leave

............wild flutters pull your eyes up, from above something zips across the rafters

the shotgun barrel gleams in the fading light, up against your shoulder tightly

the owl flutters away into the approaching night, flying out through the craters in the roof

...................you remember your studies, in the dark barn

how they lived, unmoving regardless of most stimuli, consuming both water and light yet not bothering to reach either when removed

.........they never got higher than your hips

..........................they are like trees in the barn, great leaves reaching up like hands 

there are two of them, attached like parasites to one another in a network of vine and root alike

neither of them breach the roof, even as their thin leaves reach out, purple glowing in the approaching darkness

they are attached to the walls, knotted into the beams seamlessly 

.........a slit stretched up through their trunks like a burst fruit, bioluminescence tainting the flesh a faint bluish/silver

......something clatters in the silent air at your back'

[kuzann]

Been having a really hard time with this chapter because of irl stress(and planning groundwork and future stuff have taken up development time too) and it’s looking to be quite long, so I wanted to show what I have so far.

Please keep in mind that this is a work in progress, so various parts will be cleaned up and/or changed between this and final posting. Feedback appreciated I am losing it in the bad way with this chapter right now. OTL

The Beyonders, Chapter 3 WIP: The Lost [~6.7k words]

The Doubles Route was quiet. That was strange. Emmet’s train should’ve been passing through right now.

Ingo walked along the tunnel with a lantern in his hand, his back straight and his uniform pressed and pristine, keeping well away from the track where it was safe. He wasn’t sure why he was here. He’d been doing something else when—

Metal screeched against metal, followed by a sound like a rolling explosion. Ingo froze upon hearing it, then started running toward the source. Dread rose up to meet him as he neared the corner. He knew what lay ahead.

“Emmet!” Ingo howled as the train’s engine came into view. It leaned haphazardly against the wall of the tunnel, its headlights still on despite its wheels having stopped. The cars snaked in a jumbled mess behind it, some off the tracks and some on; the one he was looking for would be near the front...

There was no one else in the tunnel. That wasn’t how things were supposed to happen. It had been swarming with emergency personnel and the few passengers who remained onboard the train after being defeated, it shouldn’t have been vacant like this—

Ingo paused mid-step and almost fell when he realized what was going on. A dream. That explained things.

It felt real. The echoing groans of metal settling into place, the chemical smell of ruptured brake lines... Ingo shivered and wrapped his arms around himself. He didn’t want to see it again. The sight of Emmet flung against one of the benches like a discarded ragdoll, thrashed and bleeding and with one arm clearly broken. It was a miracle that he’d survived without a broken neck or back.

“Ingo?”

The voice was quiet and unsure, but unmistakable.

“Emmet!” Ingo bolted for the number seven car—miraculously upright, despite how the engine was tilted—and dropped his lantern as he climbed up to the first set of doors. They refused to budge when he tried to pull them apart.

“Ingo?”

“I’m almost there! Stay with me, Emmet!” Ingo banged on the doors with his fists. They rattled, seemed to open a little, but the gap was still too small. He jumped back and searched the ground for something he could use to pry them open, or to break one of the windows enough that he could climb inside.

“Where did you go?”

“I’m here!” Ingo found a stray metal bar and snatched it up. He returned to the doors and jammed the bar between them. “Just hang on, I’m almost there!” His voice was frantic, he knew, and panic would only make things worse, but he couldn’t control it. He had to get to Emmet.

Ingo threw all his weight onto the bar, levering the doors open at last. He got an arm in, then his torso, using himself as a block to keep them from slamming shut again. With the bar in hand he braced back and foot against each door and pushed.

The door slammed into its foundations, and Ingo wedged the bar between the two halves to keep them open. He stumbled into the car and turned to look toward the front where he knew Emmet would be.

But there was no sign of Emmet. The space in front of the bench was pristine and unmarred even by the bloodstains he would’ve left behind.

“Emmet?” Ingo whirled about, trying to find any sign of his brother. “Emmet!” He’d heard his voice, he had to be nearby.

“Ingo?”

The forlorn voice was coming from under the bench where Emmet should’ve been. But where...?

Movement in the shadows. A hand reached out into the light, a shadow without a body to cast it. The other hand followed, then the head. It lifted itself off the floor, looked up and revealed a pair of eyes, the only solid part to its body. Pale gray eyes, just like Ingo’s.

Just like Emmet’s.

Ingo drew breath for the first time since the shadow had started moving and dropped to his knees. His blood ran cold as he continued to stare into those eyes. “Emmet?” He held his hands out to the shadow, unsure as to whether he should try to touch it or not.

The shadow lifted one hand, its movement slow and laborious and its arm bending under its own weight. At last it settled the hand on Ingo’s forearm, just above the cuff. Its touch was light as cobweb and cold like early morning mist. “Ingo.” The other hand dragged as the arm lifted it, at last settling on Ingo’s other forearm after a monumental effort.

“What happened to you?” Ingo’s hands shook as he started to pull Emmet into an embrace, only to stop at the worry that Emmet might be too delicate to do so without tearing his form apart.

“I’m sorry.” Emmet’s voice was a mere whisper as he struggled to pull himself closer.

“What?” Ingo stared at Emmet in shock. “What do you mean? What do you have to be sorry for?”

“I made you angry.” A shadowy hand crept up past Ingo’s elbow and clutched at the band on his sleeve. “That’s why you left. I’m sorry.”

“No, Emmet,” Ingo said, keeping his voice soft despite his own distress. He brought his hands closer together, trying to cradle Emmet without putting much pressure on him. “It was my fault. I’m the one who should apologize. You did nothing wrong.” Their eye contact had not wavered ever since Emmet looked up at him, and there was a desperation to Emmet’s eyes that made Ingo’s heart hurt.

“It hurts.” Emmet started to bring his other hand up, limp and rippling like thin cloth and light as a whisper. Now that he had lifted himself up high enough, it became clear to Ingo that Emmet’s lower half was a mere pool of shadow. “It hurts.”

“It won’t hurt forever. I’ll find a way to fix this.” Ingo brought his hands together, one resting over the other so that his arms completely encircled Emmet now.

“It hurts so much.” Emmet continued his laborious climb until both hands clung to Ingo’s shoulders. He then leaned his head against Ingo’s chest, at last breaking their relentless eye contact. “Why did you leave me alone with them?”

“Them?” A chill ran down Ingo’s spine; had someone hurt his brother? “Who’s them?”

“The static things.” Emmet shuddered. “You left me alone with them.” There was no malice to Emmet’s tone, nor accusation; it was a simple statement of fact.

Something moved outside the train car, knocked the lantern onto its other side. Ingo froze as his heart began to race, and he strained his ears to catch any further sound. He could hear it more clearly now, a high-pitched whine coupled with a low crackling hiss.

He’d left the door wide open.

Ingo turned his head just enough to see the door out of the corner of one eye, his body stiff with rising fear. A beam of light from the lantern shone through the doorway now. Nothing moved through or blocked it as Ingo watched, but somehow that wasn’t reassuring— 

A formless shadow crept over the threshold, low and clinging to the floor. No, shadow wasn’t right... Dull static rippled over its surface as it pulled the rest of itself inside. The movements were... Wrong. Halting and roiling as if the motion between every other half-second somehow could not be seen.

Another thing followed. As they drew closer, Ingo realized that the strange static was not merely on the surface—they were somehow made of it. Their erratic movements set his hair on end and made the space behind his eyes itch.

Ingo’s legs twitched, stopped just short of starting to rise. He didn’t know if Emmet could hang on with any sudden movements, or what would happen if Emmet fell to the floor again. He didn’t want to find out.

The strange static things drew closer, pulling themselves across the floor with writhing, jittering tendrils. Ingo would have to move, see if he could take Emmet with him—he didn’t want those things touching Emmet.

“Hang on,” Ingo said as he drew his arms in closer, still cautious of holding Emmet too tightly. “I’m going to stand up.”

Emmet didn’t reply, and remained with his head resting against Ingo’s chest.

The first attempt saw Ingo collapse a mere moment after he started to rise; his fear-weakened legs simply refused to bear his weight. On the second attempt he failed to move at all.

Their numbers were multiplying. The static entities now covered the floor between Ingo and the door, cutting off the escape route. One of them was close enough to reach out a tendril and touch the mass of shadow that connected Emmet to the floor—

Emmet yelped and tried desperately to pull himself farther up onto Ingo’s shoulders.

Anger flared, burning away most of the fear. Ingo bared his teeth in a scowl and raised a fist. “Get away from him!” he howled as he brought the side of his fist down on the floor with a loud bang.

The creatures parted like water under his fist. They remained in a ring around his hand, apparently unwilling to touch him.

With that being the case—

“Emmet, hold on tight. We’re getting out of here.”

“Okay.” Emmet reached up and looped his arms around Ingo’s neck.

Ingo gave Emmet a few moments to reaffirm his grip, then surged to his feet. The shadows came free of the floor, drifting like gossamer cloth, but intact. Ingo whirled and dashed toward the door with Emmet in his arms.

As with his fist the static formed stationary splashes wherever Ingo’s feet came down. They still didn’t want to touch him.

They made it to the doorway, into the pane of light cast by the lantern. It was suddenly blinding.

Ingo flinched back and lifted an arm to block the light, but there was no escaping it. He grit his teeth and turned to put his back to the light. It followed him, grew in intensity as if out of spite. It bore down on Ingo, flooding his vision with its overpowering brilliance.

Emmet’s hold slipped. “Ingo!”

“I can’t see! What’s going on?” Ingo swung his raised arm, as if to sweep the light away. He took a step back, trying to escape it.

His foot missed the threshold. He fell into empty space.

“Ingo!” Emmet lost his grip, hands slipping free of Ingo’s neck and shoulders. “Don’t leave me again!”

“Emmet!” Ingo clawed desperately at the air in front of him, trying to find one of Emmet’s hands again before he was out of reach.

He hit the ground hard.

_

Ingo jolted awake with a gasp and sat up, his breathing heavy and his heart pounding. A jarring moment of disorientation followed. He couldn’t remember where he was—

Willow dropped down in front of him with a concerned chime, his flames bright with alarm.

It was enough to snap Ingo back to the present. He was in Elesa’s condo. Safe and in his proper time.

But that dream...

Ingo turned and looked back down at his pillow. A bar of golden sunlight lay across it, right where his eyes would’ve been—the curtains had not been completely closed last night. So that explained the blinding light. But the rest of it...

The door swung open, startling Ingo, and Bore hurried out into the hallway beyond. Off to get Elesa, if he had to guess.

Ingo took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. Goosebumps still prickled his skin, thanks to the latent emotion from the dream. It didn’t feel... Normal. There was something too real about it. And those strange radio static creatures—

“Finally awake?” Elesa stood in the doorway, dressed in her usual crop top and shorts and puffy coat with her hair done in two long braids—the headset had yet to be put on. Her smile fell after a moment. “You okay? You look kind of pale.”

“I’m fine. It was just a nightmare,” Ingo replied.

“Well, you’re not alone there,” Elesa said as she entered the room. “Let’s get some breakfast and head over to the hospital, they’re letting visitors in now.”

The mere thought of food was enough to make Ingo queasy. “I could meet you there, I’m not really hungry.”

“Ingo.” Elesa crossed her arms as she looked down at him. “You won’t last if you don’t eat something.”

Ingo gave her a grumbling sigh. “You know I feel sick when I’m stressed.”

“I know. You don’t have to eat a lot. Just something small, it’s better than nothing.”

There was no denying the logic to her words. “I’ll try.”

Elesa gave him a radiant smile. “Great! I’ll make breakfast while you get ready.” She closed the door behind herself, leaving Ingo alone with his Pokemon.

Ingo ran both hands down his face and took a deep breath, then let it out slowly through his nose.

Willow chimed at him again, still worried, and Jack watched him from the far side of the bed.

“I’m okay,” Ingo reassured them, giving each a gentle pat on the head. He then brought his arms up over his head in a long stretch and folded back the covers.

Jack and Bore had managed to pack Ingo’s entire uniform into the duffel bag, and Ingo had hung it out the night before in the hopes that some of the wrinkles would come out; ironing had been out of the question given how tired he was. Now Ingo batted at a few of the larger wrinkles on his coat in between adjusting his tie. No time for ironing this morning either, he wanted to get to Emmet as quickly as possible. That would just have to be taken care of once they were back from seeing him.

Ingo put his coat on, tears starting to gather in his eyes as it settled on his shoulders. It felt like coming back all over again. This was where he belonged. This felt right. This was who he really was.

But it still wasn’t complete. Not without Emmet.

The watch was still tucked away in an outer pouch of the duffle bag. Ingo paused with one hand on the zipper as he contemplated whether he wanted to put it on yet. The eye had been creepy, yes, but Arceus had sent it for a reason. It would be unwise to leave it sitting for too long.

Ingo unzipped the pocket and took the watch out. A quick glance at the underside of the watch revealed that the eye-stone was closed again, much to his relief. Ingo slid it onto his left wrist—

The watch’s latch closed of its own accord and locked into place.

Ingo froze at the sudden movement, one hand still on the watch. This was going to take some getting used to. He turned his wrist over and pinched the latch. It came undone and the watch hung loose from his wrist, and he slid it off again. Well, that was a relief. For a moment he’d worried that it wouldn’t be willing to come off again.

The watch shuddered in Ingo’s hand, the rattling of its band links sounding suspiciously like snickering laughter.

Ingo glared at it and briefly considered tossing it back into the bag. No, no, that would just delay things, and for all he knew he might need it. Ingo swallowed his annoyance and slid the watch onto his wrist again.

As before, the watch closed and locked the latch itself.

Now that the initial surprise was over with, Ingo realized the watch fit perfectly to his wrist. Made for him... Or perhaps it became a perfect fit for anyone who wore it.

The screen lit up with a quiet blip and displayed a message: Return the lost to their proper home.

Ingo read it a few times over, then looked up at the ceiling as he pondered it. Pursue the truth and be ready, should I call upon you. That was what Arceus had told him to do before they parted ways. Did that mean it was already calling upon him now?

“Ingo! Food’s ready!”

Elesa’s voice derailed the train of thought and brought Ingo back to the present. Right. Get some food—he already knew it wasn’t going to be a pleasant time—and go see Emmet. Focus on the current leg of the journey. Ingo picked up his cap and left the guest room.

Willow and Jack followed Ingo out into the living room where Bore was waiting for them. Bore and the other Pokemon already had their food set out, with two bowls waiting for Jack and Willow. The Pokemon chattered among themselves as they dug in, their voices jovial and light-hearted; they had much to be happy about, with Ingo finally home.

Ingo settled onto a stool and set his cap down beside him—right next to the battered one that had gone with him to Hisui. He stared at the two, his gaze distant. More and more, Hisui was moving farther behind him. Into the past, into the distance. Perhaps he would look back on it more fondly in the future, but for now...

“Here you go.” Elesa set a small plate of scrambled egg in front of Ingo, followed by a mug of black tea.

“Thank you.” Ingo glanced over the eggs—eating them still felt like an insurmountable barrier right now—and instead watched Elesa as she came around to the bar.

“I did a little research while I was cooking,” Elesa said as she put her coffee and her own larger plate of scrambled eggs on the bar and sat down next to him. She took her phone from a pocket and placed it between them, then turned it on to reveal a page of information on Sinnoh. “You said you went to Hisui. That’s what Sinnoh used to be called.”

Ingo read over the page, grateful for the temporary distraction. “Oh. That’s right, they were talking about renaming the region to Sinnoh before I left.” Something about it didn’t sit right, now that he thought back on it. Kamado had looked down on the clans and their cultures, all while touting how he and Jubilife Village were so vital to “keeping the peace”. The fact that he’d been the one making the decision for the entire region—name choice aside—just didn’t sit right. “I wonder how much has changed...”

“Don’t forget to eat that egg,” Elesa said, waving a finger at him.

“I know.” Ingo returned his attention to the scrambled egg and picked up his fork. The first bite was torture—Elesa wasn’t a bad cook by any means, but the stress didn’t care—but now he was on courtesy’s well-worn track. It would be rude not to finish, and Ingo was not a rude person.

Halfway through. It was amazing how a single egg could cause so much pain. Ingo instinctively reached for his phone in the hopes that it would give him enough of a distraction to make eating the eggs more bearable, only to remember that he had no idea where it was. He brought the empty hand back up and turned to Elesa. “Hey, do you know where my phone is?”

“Oh! Yeah, I have it here, actually. Your wallet too.” Elesa got up and hurried away, off to her bedroom. She returned soon after with Ingo’s phone and his wallet in hand. “Here. The police took them for the investigation and then gave them back to me.”

Ingo accepted them with a sigh of relief and tucked his wallet away, though it seemed Elesa had something else to say.

“I looked through them, after you disappeared. I was trying to find out what happened... Sorry...” Elesa averted her eyes, ashamed for having violated his privacy.

“It’s okay. I understand why you did it.” He’d be desperately looking for answers too, if he’d been the one left behind. “People really thought I drowned myself in the bay?”

“Mhmm.” Elesa wiped at the corner of one eye with the heel of her palm and tried to stifle a sniffle. “I was looking for anything that proved you didn’t.”

“Did you...?”

“Nothing conclusive,” Elesa replied. She wiped her other eye and gave him a smile. “But you’re alive. That’s what matters.”

“Sorry, Elesa.”

“I told you to stop apologizing.” Elesa returned her attention to her breakfast. “I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”

Ingo unlocked his phone and found nothing immediately amiss. There were a lot of missed calls, a significant number of them coming from the hospital. That sent a cold lance of anxiety through him, and no small amount of guilt followed on its heels. He’d neglected his duties as Emmet’s health advocate, being away for so long. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to forgive himself for that...

“Emmet didn’t get worse at all while I was gone, right?” Ingo asked, not feeling brave enough to listen to the messages the hospital had left.

“He’s mostly the same, a little thinner now probably,” Elesa replied.

Ingo took a deep breath and tried to force the anxiety back. “Okay.”

He then checked his contacts on a whim; he’d added Lucius as a matter of convenience, so perhaps he could get some lead if he found the number again.

The contact was missing.

Ingo searched through his messages and email with growing alarm. All correspondence he’d had with Lucius was gone.

“What’s wrong?” Elesa was watching him again, her breakfast nearly finished.

“All my conversations with Lucius are gone,” Ingo replied. “How did he get into my phone?”

“Did he ever watch you unlock it?”

“Maybe... I can’t remember.”

“How did you even find this guy?”

“I didn’t,” Ingo replied, the nape of his neck starting to feel cold. “He found me one day and we just... Started talking. And then that led into the time travel stuff.” He brought a hand to his face to hide the growing blush of humiliation at being used. “Why did I ever listen to him?”

“You were in a really bad place, Ingo.” Elesa put a hand on Ingo’s shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “You were desperate, and he took advantage of that.” Her expression darkened as she removed her hand and took a long sip of her coffee. “And we’ll find out why.”

They finished their food in silence. Ingo took longer, but he finished it down to the last bite regardless.

“You were trying to go back and stop the derailment,” Elesa said as Ingo stood.

“I was,” Ingo replied. “I thought it was the only way to save Emmet.”

“That scumbag, using your pain like that.” Elesa got to her feet, her empty plate in one hand. “And then making it look like you died after things went wrong. Just who does that?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure I could ever understand someone who’d do that.”

They took their plates to the kitchen, rinsed them, and left them stacked in the sink to be properly cleaned later. No time to waste.

Ingo retrieved his hat from where it sat on the bar, then turned to the crowd of Pokemon. “Who wants to see Emmet?”

His own team stood aside, giving Emmet’s team first choice. Every one of Emmet’s Pokemon came forward, eager to see him again.

“Alright, everyone get packed up and all aboard!” Ingo then turned to his own time. “You guys keep an eye on things.”

Emmet’s team returned to their PokeBalls while Ingo’s team gave him various salutes and called affirmations; they would make sure that Elesa’s home was well looked after in their absence.

Ingo put on his hat and tucked Emmet’s team away in a breast pocket, then turned to Elesa.

“Let’s head out,” Elesa said as she put on her headset.

_

They opted for a bus route to get them to the hospital. Ingo wasn’t ready to face Gear Station just yet, he needed time to prepare himself, to come up with a decent explanation and apology for leaving them like that.

Everywhere they went, people stared. Whispered to each other. Pointed him out to their companions. A fair few got excited, but all of them kept a respectful distance. Ingo appreciated that, but the sheer weight of being focused on by so many people had him on edge. The whole city would know he was back by nightfall, and it was a population that could very well include the man who apparently wanted everyone to think he was dead. It took much of Ingo’s will to keep his back straight and his head up under the pressure.

All the while, Elesa kept herself between Ingo and prying eyes as much as she could. She took the aisle seat when they rode the bus, her perfect posture and the volume of her coat giving Ingo something to hide behind in his window seat. Anyone who tried to take a picture received a sharp look from her, after which they inevitably put the phone away or quickly turned their attention to something else.

Ingo set a relentless pace once they were walking again, with less than a block between them and the hospital entrance. Elesa kept up easily with her long legs, her braids swaying in time with her stride.

The woman behind the front desk gave him a look of surprise when his turn came. Ingo passed his ID over to head off any doubts about identity and was given his name tag and the location of Emmet’s room without delay. He stood aside so Elesa could get her own name tag, feeling relieved that there had been no complications despite his long absence.

They resumed their hurried pace as they left the front desk. Emmet had been moved while Ingo was away. That bothered him, and his pulse quickened as his mind raced to the worst possible explanations. Elesa hadn’t mentioned anything being amiss but still, he worried. The hospital went by in a blur as Ingo refocused on his goal, trying to keep the horrid thoughts at bay. It was only once they checked in with the desk for Emmet’s floor that he was shaken out of his haze.

“Dr. Irdin needs to talk to you about further treatment options. Could you wait around while I let her know?” the nurse asked, the phone receiver already in hand as he watched Ingo.

“Uh—yes,” Ingo replied. So they’d continued looking for answers even during his absence. That made the guilt that still lurked at the back of his mind even worse; they could’ve moved forward faster if he’d just been here. “Could we see Emmet in the meantime?”

“That’s fine. I’ll let you know when Dr. Irdin can stop by.”

They continued on to Emmet’s room. Ingo paused at the door as his nerves got the better of him. He knew there would be no improvement to Emmet’s condition. There could even be deterioration, if his conclusions from the dream were correct. Part of him didn’t want to see—

Elesa gave him a gentle nudge.

Ingo took a deep breath, steeling himself and willing his heart to slow down, and opened the door.

It was a well-kept room, just as the first had been. The curtains were drawn, with the overhead lights providing dimmed illumination that made navigation easy without being overbearing. The loudest, most noticeable sounds came from the machinery that monitored Emmet’s vitals. Rhythmic beeps, and a high-pitched whine and distant static that didn’t sound quite right… It was only once they got closer that they could hear Emmet himself breathing.

Ingo closed the remaining space between them in a sprint and came to a stop at the near side of Emmet’s bed. Raw emotion flooded through him as he looked at Emmet’s slack and unsmiling face: joy at finally being by his side again; shame and regret for ever leaving him, however unintentional; relief that Emmet had not deteriorated as much as he feared; the ever-present anxiety that he would still fail to save him... The tears started up again. He’d made it back to Emmet’s side. Now he could change things. If only he knew how...

Emmet was even thinner than before, his cheekbones more prominent and his eyes sunken. This much thinner in just a month… His hair was brushed but limp and dull. The casts on Emmet’s right arm and left leg had been removed while Ingo was away. To think it had already been so long since the accident...

Ingo removed his hat and placed it on the bedside table—just below a vase of spring flowers—then took off his gloves and tucked them away in a pocket. He took Emmet’s near hand in his own, his movements gentle and slow. “I’m home, Emmet,” he said, his voice threatening to break. “I missed you so much.”

No response.

His heart sank. He knew it was only to be expected, yet some small part of him had hoped his return would get some reaction out of Emmet. A deeper breath, a twitch, a squeeze of his hand. Anything. But as before, Emmet lay still other than the steady rise and fall of his chest. Completely closed off to the world outside.

“I’m back, Emmet,” Elesa added as she put a reassuring hand on Ingo’s shoulder. “A lot’s happened since yesterday.” She let out a breathless laugh as everything hit her again, and she wiped at her eyes with the back of her free hand. “A lot. It’s gonna take a while to tell you everything.”

“Where do we even start?” Ingo wondered aloud, his eyes cast to the ceiling.

“How about last night?” Elesa asked, taking the lead. “You don’t have to tell things in order.”

Ingo gave a dry chuckle in reply. “Arceus walked me home through this strange in-between space, and then I jumped back into the present. Willow was right there waiting for me when I touched down.” There was still a certain unreality about it, even as he recounted what had happened; yesterday he’d been in Hisui, and today he was home and finally seeing Emmet again. “I wonder if Arceus knew where he’d be...”

The watch buzzed.

Ingo and Elesa looked down at it in surprise.

“You put it on?” Elesa asked in a whisper, as if worried the watch might overhear.

“I thought I might need it,” Ingo replied. He brought the watch up to eye level and read the new text that had appeared on its screen: Protoforms detected.

“What’s a protoform?” Elesa whispered.

“I don’t—”

It was then that Ingo recognized the high-pitched whine and static that was not part of the monitoring system’s noise. The hair at the back of his neck rose and unease began to roil in the pit of his stomach. Just like the nightmare...

Reveal what is hidden? the watch asked. A small white button appeared just below the new text, pulsing as if to entice him further.

Ingo gently released Emmet’s hand and paused with his finger over the button.

Elesa held on to Ingo’s arm with both hands, fingers tightening to an almost painful degree as she watched him.

He pressed the button.

A strange sensation rang through Ingo’s head like the toll of a bell. Not painful, but resonant and foreign enough to give him chills.

Chaotic, writhing movement drew his attention back to Emmet. The strange static creatures from the nightmare roiled around and through Emmet’s head in a tight-packed swarm, so dense that they completely obscured his face.

Elesa let out a horrified gasp right next to his ear.

Ingo’s legs moved before he could register what his body was doing. He fell back against Elesa and the two crashed to the floor.

The watch beeped, and the creatures disappeared...

No, Ingo knew they were still there. He could still hear them. They were simply invisible again, and the thought of Emmet being... Infested like that made his stomach churn.

“What were those things?!” Elesa asked, still holding Ingo’s arm in a vice grip despite their fall.

“I saw them in my nightmare this morning,” Ingo said, his voice distant and hollow with dread as he stared up at Emmet. “I can still hear them. Can’t you? That high-pitched tone, and the static. How long have they been there?”

Someone knocked on the door, making them jump, and the nurse they’d spoken to earlier opened it.

“Dr. Irdin will be with you soo—” the nurse stopped when he noticed their expressions. “Oh. You noticed, huh?”

“Noticed?” Ingo said as he scrambled to his feet, Elesa right behind him. He put a hand over the watch despite himself. “What do you mean?”

“It started up right after you went missing,” the nurse began, completely unfazed by their alarm. “People kept noticing weird things whenever they came into his room, like shadows moving in the peripherals, strange sounds, stuff like that. Psychics have it worst, though. They get really rattled if they have to be in with him too long. That’s why he was moved to this wing, not many psychics working over here and we can look after his daily care just as well.”

“You don’t seem too worried,” Ingo said. 

“It’s weird but I don’t think it’s dangerous,” the nurse said with a shrug. “So I just do my best to ignore it.” He cleared his throat and clapped his hands together, moving on to the next topic. “Anyway, Dr. Irdin will be with you soon. She’ll bring you up to date about what’s going on.”

“Thank you, we’ll be here waiting.”

The nurse took his leave.

Ingo turned to Elesa. “Did you notice anything before this...?” There was no venom to his tone, only worry.

Elesa put a hand to her forehead as she tried to remember. “Maybe? But I chalked it up to stress and lack of sleep! Emmet’s Pokemon didn’t seem to notice either.”

They turned and looked at Emmet again. Why did you leave me alone with them? Emmet had asked in the nightmare. He’d been stuck with those awful things the whole time Ingo was gone...

“What are we supposed to do about this?” Elesa finally released Ingo and slowly approached Emmet’s bed. “Those things aren’t Pokemon.”

That was true. The creatures were unlike anything Ingo had ever encountered before—they didn’t feel like Pokemon at all—but the watch knew what they were. The watch reacted to their presence. Arceus had handed him the key, if he could just figure out how to use it.

“The watch called them protoforms,” Ingo said as he joined Elesa. “Maybe it’ll help us get rid of them.”

“Any chance it came with instructions...?” Elesa asked.

“Not that I’ve found,” Ingo admitted.

Elesa let out a grumbling sigh. “Of course.”

There was a knock at the door, and Dr. Irdin entered. She was of average height and build, her deep blue hair kept short in a tidy pixie cut and wrinkles only just starting to come in at the corners of her eyes. “Good to see you again,” Irdin said as she approached the bed at a measured pace, a clipboard in one hand. “You disappeared under fairly suspicious circumstances, given the rumors.”

“I’m still trying to figure out what happened myself, if I’m being honest,” Ingo said as he turned to face her in full. “How’s Emmet? The nurse mentioned people noticing strange things around him.”

“Yes, we ruled out psychic interference within the second week, but there’s some sort of disturbance going on around him now. It started on the day you disappeared, in fact.”

“Is it some kind of Pokemon?” Ingo asked, though he was already sure of the answer. Still, perhaps the hospital staff had noticed something that could offer some sort of clue.

“It doesn’t match any known Pokemon. It’s the same mystery energy signature as before, but it’s grown in intensity. And ever since that started we haven’t detected any further waking attempts.”

That was disheartening—prior to Ingo’s disappearance the doctors had noticed Emmet trying to wake up several times, but all attempts had ended in failure for some reason. Every time, at a certain point along the path to full consciousness Emmet stopped and retreated back to a lower level. Even the resident psychics’ attempts to pull him up did nothing to help, leaving them at their wits’ end as to what to do. If Emmet wasn’t even trying to wake up anymore...

“Is there anything else you can try?”

“We’ve reached our limit, but I recently got word from a hyperspecialist I contacted about Emmet’s case a few months ago. Dr. Korten specializes in highly unusual coma cases, but her methods vary from patient to patient so there aren’t many others who can do what she can. Normally you’d be waiting months to a year for a consultation but her schedule was freed up recently. She’s in Unova now, in fact, if you’d like to give the go-ahead.”

“Yes, please.” Ingo would take all the help he could get; it could give him more leads if nothing else. “When’s the soonest we can get a consultation?”

“Within a week, possibly sooner. If you give permission I’ll send her the full information on Emmet’s condition so she can get up to speed beforehand.” Irdin passed the clipboard to Ingo and indicated the line at the bottom of the top page where he should sign.

Ingo did his best to read through the entirety of the form—it was indeed asking permission to pass information to Dr. Korten, as Irdin had said—then signed it and passed the clipboard back to Irdin. His hands were shaking all the while, but whether it was from nerves or cautious hope he couldn’t say.

“Where did you go, if I may ask?” Dr. Irdin gave him a carefully neutral stare. “We could have gotten Dr. Korten in faster if you’d been here earlier.”

Ingo looked at the floor, unable to maintain eye contact out of shame. “There weren’t any solutions, so I went looking for some myself.” It wasn’t a lie. That had been what he was doing. He’d just left out all the unbelievable parts…

“I see.” There was a pause, as if Dr. Irdin was considering whether she wanted to push Ingo further or not. “Is there anything you’d like to ask about?”

“Has he gotten worse at all? Other than what you already mentioned?” Ingo asked, his voice wobbling slightly with nerves.

“No unexpected physical deterioration. He’s still able to breathe unassisted, but obviously the longer he stays under like this, the longer he’ll have to do physical therapy when he wakes up.”

“Okay,” Ingo said with a nod. He lifted his head, able to look Irdin in the eye again. “Thank you, you’ve done an amazing job taking care of him.”

“You’re welcome. I hope Dr. Korten is able to deliver good results,” Dr. Irdin said. “I’ll let you know if there are any further developments.” She then took her leave, closing the door with care as she did so.

Ingo and Elesa returned to Emmet’s bedside, quiet and each lost in their own worries. A terrible thought occurred to Ingo, that Emmet might already be gone—that the things infesting his mind might’ve already hollowed him out and left nothing behind. He swayed slightly as he stood there, dancing right on the edge of being physically ill over the possibility. Could Emmet really be gone already—

“You still have time to act regardless. Don’t give in to despair just yet.”

Arceus’s words floated back to the front of Ingo’s mind of their own accord. That was right. Arceus had said there was still time. Arceus had given him a device that shed some light on what was going on, and would no doubt help him to do more.

Don’t give in to despair. Ingo repeated it to himself several times, eyes closed as he concentrated. There’s still time!

A hand settled on Ingo’s shoulder, startling him.

“Maybe it’s time to let Emmet’s Pokemon see him?” Elesa suggested. She was already looking as tired as Ingo felt, though she tried to hide it.

“Oh, right.” Ingo took the PokeBalls from his breast pocket and released Emmet’s team.

They crowded around Emmet’s bed, save for one. Socks hung back, wing-arms held close to his chest while he made a low, anxious whine deep in his throat.

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

I wasn't sure if I should put my reply to the comment you made on my pictures in a reblog or just send it to you directly as an ask, so I just chose this way because I just kind of babbled about some of the things I was thinking while I was drawing them and that seemed kind of weird to add to the post?

But anyway, I must have read your reply and tags like 20 times, thank you so much!!! I'm very happy to hear you liked them! And don't worry, I immediately took your zombie comment as a compliment, because I wanted to give him the same sort of haunted and unsettling 'might break into a sprint on all fours and bite you' look you gave him lmao. And as far as horrible noises go... I looked up jackrabbit distress calls and yikes.

Actually, Ingo without his coat was the first one I drew, because I was obsessing over how he looked in that first picture of yours and absolutely Needed to draw what I thought he had to look like under his coat. And the second thing I drew was the one with him and Emmet, because I realized that, even if he couldn't see all of the damage through the coat and tunic, That's what Ingo looked like the first time Emmet saw him again. I had a lot of feelings about that, and also liked the contrast between them. Plus the general feeling of like, they can no longer stand together as perfect mirrors, but it doesn't matter, they'll work to meet in the middle all the same.

And the scars! While I was adding them I was like he probably doesn't have anything too bad on the torso because his coat isn't really shredded there, and he's fast enough that most things couldn't catch him to do much damage. But pokemon throw their attacks in the game, he probably handles babies with sharp claws and an instinct to climb, and his coat had to get torn somehow, so those scars were made with the intent to look like they came from his coat no longer being there to protect his legs and forearms from getting cut up instead.

... Does Cyllene have blue fur?? Because I was genuinely wondering about that.

i mean it's your post you can put whatever you want on it, but yeah this is cool too! as long as you don't mind if i keep answering your asks publicly lol

anyway thank YOU again for the lovely art!! yeahh he should have those vibes of like. "that thing is a PREY animal?? are you SURE??" also do we think anthros are capable of like making the same noises as their regular animals? i mean, the kids can purr i am not budging on this matter they NEED to purr or i'll riot. so i guess by extension other anthros can make similar animal vocalizations in addition to regular speech? but maybe it's considered something you only really do instinctively and/or doing it on purpose has specific social connotations.

hhh yeah... i think your drawing is pretty spot-on re: what he would look like, and Ouch yeah that would hurt emmet So Bad. including the fact that in person he's also visibly in High Alert mode and he's breathing wrong and his hands are shaking and- what did they do to his brother?

the idea that a good portion of his scars are just from overenthusiastic sneasel kits (kits? cubs?) though, lmao. but that's its own, like, ingo, you don't have to let them scale you using all of their claws. but he just doesn't care enough to stop them. but most of them are probably a shifting array of temporary-and-fading scars anyway. and then there are the bigger, nastier ones, from the full-grown mons that were actually on the attack...

mmm i almost feel like i'd need to do some color tests to decide whether she's blue, or sandy regular mountain lion colors, or a mix of both. like it might be too overpowering to make her grey-blue on top of her survey corps outfit, but then the sandy color might be too much of a contrast, or the mix would just look weird. idk i might revisit that! hmm.

[rileyomalley]

Cryptid Solutions - The Bastion

Wanted to write a little backstory thing about one of the staff of Cryptid Solutions, but didn’t want to spam the server, so you get a gander into the origins of the field agent, The Bastion!

What does one do when they've been through what has felt like many centuries? What does one do to sate the burning sensations that constantly writhe, from the fires of hell licking at your feet by the shouting of livid men and women? What choices has one made for the better of their life, to only ache all the more because of it? She was but a wildling in the old Irish isles, fancy free with little attachments. save for her small family with whom she held dear. Father, Emmet. Mother, Maebh. Two sisters, Aideen and Aisling. And she...was Deirdre. Her life could be considered like that out of a dream, out of an illusory vision that one wouldn't want to wake from. Until the days of precursory blame was placed upon her and her sisters, youth befell witchcraft of the lands. Why this of all things? Why now? When years before there was nothing but peace and quiet and a solemn happiness with her and her kin and the village which she lived. Everything was burned. Families were torn, children ripped from their parents arms by claims of high ranking individuals. Of Lords with their persuasions that wrought the lands for their own purposes. Days passed and knowing little of the whereabouts of condition of her family, if they were even safe, Deidre rest agonized and entrapped as the main suspect of these witchly trials and claims. She tried and tried much to her determination, she could not budge the shackles that held her small wrists tightly. Her mind was numb to the sounds around her which turned to nothing but muffled ambience. Until a moment where clarity brought her to an awakened state, her awareness piqued. A voice rung sharp within her ears. "So long you've danced, wild and free. Nothing has kept you within it's confines trapped. What prevents you from slipping away as usual?" Green eyes danced wildly, uncertain to the origins of the one who spoke. They continued on, Deidre feeling the pit of her stomach sinking the further she listened. Those she cared so dearly for...there was little she could do, or so she thought and so she was told. The vagueness of the disembodied voice as to their safety...it only gave her a solid possibility, but nothing definite. But what did she want when she was given the chance to be set free?

Years passed.

Deidre had escaped the fate of death on false claims. With this came the waves of both the good and the bad. Fending for her own and reliving her wild ways time and time again. Her personality was that of a large one, sparking alight the flames within many who went through the drawls of their life. She'd been a blessing to many. A treasure to one. So very few could hold such a woman down, happy within her own world. Her heart only opened to one. One who could keep up with her with the patience of a saint it would seem. Their energies nearly matched that of Deidre's, dancing blues among her vibrant greens.

One's heart can be both strongest...and the weakest. The walls were not so easily maintained within her lover's heart. She was too willing in those moments, as much of a risk taker she'd been since she was young.

It only ended in turmoil, wrought with a fight by them and their own, learning terribly late that they were from a lineage of hunters. They were not without their love for her, such tribulations left a terrible hole in their heart, but decisions fell upon the lovers in a less than pleasant manner.

Deidre throughout her life, no matter how often trouble seemed to clamber and cling to her with a vice grip - she could only depend on one thing. No matter how often she was burned, tormented, scorned, angered to the point of absolute murder - she could only depend on one thing. She could not die as long as the fey could feel her soul. They would not let her. Years after that she'd gone into hiding within the nearest thicket of woods she could find, traveling as far as her feet would take her, bloodied and bruised. She stayed in solace, in silence, the sanctity of her loneliness to not once fall under the pretenses of supposed kindness of another. Mortals...other folk of strange energies...she wanted nothing of it. A lone witch on the cusp of turning into a hag...she was greeted with an intense, otherworldly presence, many eons into the future. Upon her stone looking exhaustively to the form of shadow, slender with tendrils dancing about them, dark skin and a head of long pristine white hair. Deidre wanted nothing to do with them. She had been beaten, scarred, abused for all the wrong reasons and what ELSE was there to tamper with her very existence and attempt to rip it to shreds??? To provide her with the promise of something better, to alight the already battered soul that seemed for whatever reason, to keep going on potentially by a sick feywild game? No...she couldn't blame the feywilds. Nothing else...they were the few that she could trust any more. They saw something good in her and provided her many chances for a new life.

Why...she wasn't sure...

This figure however, in their persistence, spoke not of wanting to destroy her. They spoke of how in the distance they knew of her plights, of her bountiful tragedies that could fill a tome. All they wished was to offer her was sanctity. To offer something that would be her choice. To offer her a chance to renew that strong energy that was superfluous in her person, yet meek in it's weakened state currently.

It was her choice, and her choice only. This was no devil's promise.

Or so they said.

The offer of their assistance...to renew her.

Who...were they?

Among the cold that embraced the very core of her alight with a vibrant flame, the kind of heat she had not been acquainted with for quite some time. For fall too long.

She took the chance to reunite with it again.

Wrapped within all her scars, all her time she has lived upon the earth, Deidre would rise again one final time, renewed. Awakened. Rejuvenated. Reincarnated as ... The Bastion.