#echo all the way up
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noxcheshire · 2 months ago
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I am sick, dizzy, and can barely think but you know what would be WILD?
If the DC universe was an echo of Danny’s world. What if the continents of their planet shifted enough where Amity is now in New Jersey and had then become Gotham.
And when Danny died underneath the portal a part of his death fractured and imprinted itself into those various worlds. One of them being Gotham, where Danny’s home ironically used to be where Wayne Manor used to be.
So just imagine it, you’re coming back from patrol, grimy, sweaty, and with questionable intentions by dressing as an overgrown bat when suddenly the lights dim. It dims and brings darkness, only enough light to catch the beady marble eyes of the bats you fear.
And then electricity jumps in the middle of the room, flinging itself around like an agitated snake in wide open circles.
Everyone is backing away, some weary, some cursing, some just half way out of their own suit.
And then a child — barely as old as your youngest now, flickers to life before you, screaming and screaming, wailing in pain as the scent of burning flesh mingles into the air. You can see the boy, black hair and blue eyes that underneath the bright light that burns them is causing black to turn white, and blue to turn green.
The electricity crackles and when the boy is about the drop, limp, certainly lifeless, he vanishes as if nothing had ever been there.
But he comes back, he always comes back, in the moment of calm and in the moment of despair, echoing that painful wailing of death.
It’s so wrong.
It’s very, very wrong.
It didn’t even matter anymore why the boy showed up, only that this moment of pain continues to haunt the cave of heroes.
Continuously haunting, even as some whispered apologizes when the boy appeared. Continuously haunting, even as some provided songs of comfort when the boy appeared. Continuously haunting, even as stories of Gotham are told and promises (though uncertain and flimsy at best) are spoken to the wailing boy who always drops fast and disappears just as quickly.
Always, it was the same.
Until one day it wasn’t.
The electricity crackled like it always did. A spark, and then a calamity of light. And the boy would be there, uncurling himself into a tense position as he would wail.
But not this time.
Instead the boy curled himself in the air, calm as can be, almost as if he were sleeping. Even the electricity that they have learned to dance away from was calm, gentle, like ocean waves.
And when the electricity vanished, the boy did not, instead dropping to the floor where Dick was quick to catch him, grunting in preparation of weight only to show alarm at how thin the boy truly was.
On that face that has haunted them all for months is just a boy, sleeping, and scarred. A boy breathing very slow, slower than what they would like, but here in the physical realm with them.
Dick brushed back bangs of black hair, and slowly, ever so slowly, glazed blue eyes stared back.
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bookalicent · 3 months ago
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yeah so this was insane
#i feel like too many people reduce this interaction to jason being like ‘lol same’#but idk :/#this chapter is from jason’s pov#and leading up to it he’s like ‘people keep walking on eggshells around me bc of the the michael varus stab wound’#and he hates it so when he goes on deck to help out with the storm#everyone’s like wtf except for percy#and jason states how much he appreciated percy not treating him like a sick kid#and i feel like it’s echoed in this sentiment where jason could say so many things like#‘you should never feel that way’ ‘im here if you need anything’#but he doesn’t make percy feel alone in his desire to just…. end it all#which ik for some people that doesn’t work but you’re not a character in hoo and percy is dealing with so much guilt#and he can’t tell annabeth bc she’s a main aspect of that guilt#and he doesn’t wanna guilt her more and he feels ashamed and when he describes this he feels weird for feeling it#so having jason this tough guy be like ‘yo i understand it bc i felt the same way#that’s gotta mean a lot to percy#also insane how jason who also struggles to display vulnerability#allows it in one of few times in this moment just so percy this guy he’s supposed to be jealous about#feels comforted and not alone in his guilt and shame#and also it’s just insane how jason’s wanting to kay em ess does not get talked about AT ALL#and just seeing his mom and the pressure of new rome getting to him#like this scene is insane and i’ll never shut up about it#also ignore me i’m just finishing my reread of hoo that took all summer#jason grace#percy jackson#pjo#ashla.txt
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yasmeensh · 5 months ago
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The comforts of palace life are still within reach for Zelda with the Tri-rod ✨
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lucabyte · 3 months ago
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A belief in Nominative Determinsim
#mira & isa sitting at the other side of the room: oh that cannot be a healthy rationalisation. someone should deconstruct that QUICKLY...#change's strongest soldiers VERSUS one guy echo chambering themselves about a susperstition-based retributive model of the world. GO!!!#isat spoilers#isat#isat fanart#isat siffrin#isat loop#sifloop#sloops#in stars and time#in stars and time fanart#lucabyteart#hey look now. this is softer than usual isnt it? ignore the. ignore the subtle damnation of blame unto the self. its fine. theyre fine#this is in fact a slight adaptation of that headcanon of mine i linked! yep! turns out the way to comic-ise it was to. make it like#90% speech bubble and get kinda weird with the formatting. it's clunky and experimental but hey. im experimenting.#the next ones gonna have even more fucking speech bubbles if it goes how im planning. christ#then its gonna get followed up with something wordless so. all things in perfect balance.#DISCLAIMER: i like to write loop and siffrin displaying the maybe not so great logic-holes their seeming fear of 'retribution for not#sticking to (the script) what the universe intends for them' entails. i do not agree with their weird philosophising.#i in fact think this is . bad for them. and am exploring how fucking unhealthy their mindset seems to be even when 'mundane'#OCD siffrin real as hell whats with the doing arbitrary actions in specific ways lest Something Nebulously Bad Happen little dude?#anyway if you caught the extremely blunt symbolism of kissing a hand with a knife in it you win a prize! it's called self-satisfaction 🎉🎉#hmm. do people realise i kept calling this type of back and forth between siffrin and loop a socratic dialogue bc socrates was also just#arguing with himself? like he was just making up the other guys. complete thought experiment. i also call them that because theyre WORDY!!!
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twinsunstars · 1 month ago
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part of the Series of TBB Memes!
A Series of TBB Memes
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jerswayman · 7 months ago
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LOVE THY GOALIE. GIVE THY GOOD BOY HEAD PATS.
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crosshairslongasslegs · 7 months ago
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“you’re our kid omega, always will be”
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OUR. OUR KID. THE BAD BATCH’S KID
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casualavocados · 3 months ago
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An idiot like you...an idiot like you...
KISEKI: DEAR TO ME Ep. 9
#kiseki: dear to me#kisekiedit#kdtm#kiseki dear to me#ai di x chen yi#chen yi x ai di#nat chen#chen bowen#louis chiang#chiang tien#jiang dian#userspring#uservid#userspicy#userjjessi#pdribs#*cajedit#*gif#IM BACK WITH MORE MICROEXPRESSIONS AND MINOR DETAILS POSTING WHEEEEEEEEEEEE#anyway 'only i...since i was young til now...have been looking at you' if you even care. cuz. *gestures* this is ALL that. in these hugs#and okay thinking about it - im a little obsessed with the way we dont really See the reasons Why ai di loves chen yi#like usually in dramas theres a 'here's who he is through x's eyes here's why he is desirable' etc. and kiseki is not. like that.#ai di and chen yi bicker constantly. chen yi brushes ai di off. we see all their rough patches. but the little things ai di says in ep4 -#'he picks on & scolds me the most but he cares for me the most' are shown as part of it all AND actually one of the first things ai di says#in that scene is that they grew up together. like idk theres something about how it doesnt need to be some big thing.#some great quality of chen yi's that makes him loveable. ai di just loves him. it's that simple. he just does and always has and always wil#and loves him for everything chen yi is. even the parts that hurt him. 'an idiot like you' followed by 'im naive. im foolish.' IDK MAN.....#ITS LIKE AI DI IS ACCEPTING AND LOVING ALL OF CHEN YI'S INADEQUACIES. WHILE DAMNING HIS OWN. feeling so stupid for feeling so much#for someone he cant help but love - bc their lives have always. been. entwined. & you see that love echoed in chen yi. in how relaxed he is#how he kisses ai di's choker..follows ai di's lead & ai di's mouth. before chen yi's mind knows its ai di his body knows & loves him easily
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nerfpuncher · 2 years ago
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The fact that they never took Tech to a space casino to hustle people at cards is such Bullshit they could have made so much money in a single night doing that .
Phee babysits Omega for them and they all go to space Las Vegas and it just turns into the Star Wars version of The Hangover
Like it would be so funny cause it would probably just look like this
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tapestryundone · 3 days ago
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when the god was made in the image of a man who infiltrated the mind of said god and in doing so made himself intertwined with the form that god took while also being the cause of that form creating a infinite feedback loop of what caused the god and his creator to evoke the very image of the death the creator feared through the form of an animal representing that concept, and the god has faint, undeniably human characteristics given to him by his creator while his creator retained none of it. fuck
#slay the princess#quiet is absolutely a corvid in draconic packaging#but theres traits of him that cannot be detached from his construction to aid humanity#his hands and arms in particular. and his uncomfortably human teeth but mostly his hands and arms#bc his hands are very birdlike yes but the general anatomy is completely detached from anything that could be described#as avian or draconic#whereas the narrators almost completely played straight as a crow but with teeth#and its so specific and maybe im reading too much into it#but his teeth are extremely NOT human-like#the narrator is extremely not human even though he once was#did he give his humanity up in creation of the long quiet and the shifting mound?#in his last moments before he became countless echos did he put all of the humanity he had and give it to them#in order to make the long quiet understanding of the concept of mortality in an attempt to sway him on slaying the princess#and in order to make the princess capable of death just as humans are?#was it his own plot to save humanity through the creation of gods that he stripped himself of his own humanity and handed it to said gods#making them resemble living mortal humans far more than he ever could after he gave it to them?#was the gift of humanity that he gave the concept of reality in two distinct ways the exact reason why his plan failed?#why his giving of that gift came back to destroy the construct he created?#that in deciding it to be his duty to act effectively as a mortal god he gave up his own humanity#and made two gods that were more human than him?#anyway narrators got sharp teeth and is a bird except humanity is mentioned. so this man became a bird. metaphorically. after playing god#sorry you tried to destroy death and your creation and you too became symbols of it!#its only symbolically satisfying and fitting i hope you understand
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lesbovalentine · 8 months ago
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always funny how often u see cloud and tifa purported as childhood friends when in reality he was the weird kid no one liked who tried to hang around with her friend group who all hated him. we only know of like two meaningful interactions between them before nibelheim burned and one of those tifa doesnt even remember. part of the fun with them is how tifa encourages clouds belief that they were friends then mostly because hes all thats left of home
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beansnpeets · 2 months ago
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So. We have developed an issue.
Echo is beyond velcro these days. She INSISTES on constant attention and does not take no for an answer. I can push her away repeatedly and she keeps coming back. She shoves herself into my body, under my arm, climbs all over me on the couch, etc. and I basically have to remove her from the room and put up a baby gate to get any semblance of peace from this behaviour.
What do I do??
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stars-n-spice · 7 months ago
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Questions TBB Better Fucking Answer Soon:
Where the FUCK is Tech??? Stop fucking giving us hope that he might be C2-X or whatever the fuck. Fucking show us his dead body or give him back to us!
Where the FUCK is Cody?? Huh??? Where did he go??? Only acceptable answer? He's on his way to Tatooine to be with Obi-Wan. You reveal that and all will be forgiven. I promise. Maybe.
WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED WITH WOLFFE FOR LETTING REX AND THE GANG GET AWAY HUH??? I'M SURE THERE WERE CONSEQUENCES!! WHEN THE FUCK ARE WE GOING TO GET HIM BACK???
What the fuck is up with Omega. Straight up. What. How. and Why? Same with Emerie. How the fuck did they come to be? Are they trans? yes. next question.
Also why does Emerie get a last name and nobody else does, hm? Why is she Emerie Karr, is that like,, did she choose that or like?? Ok dumb question sure but like,, EXPLAIN HOW AND WHY OR JUST CONFIRM SHE'S TRANS OR SOMETHING C'MON NOW.
SHOW US WHAT THE FUCK IS IN THOSE FUCKING TUBES!
I'm sorry, I'm yelling but I've spent most of this season fucking confused and frustrated.
Where the fuck did the zillo beast go? And when is it going to eat Hemlock and Palpatine?
So...Senator Chuchi and Clone Revolution when?
And like...Cid is just...she's just going to be able to get away with what she did? We're just gonna forget about her? I mean sure, but I really thought they'd bring her back or something.
What the fuck happened to Crosshair on Tatniss? Wait, nevermind, don't tell me, I don't want to know, it'll only make me sad-
WAIT SO LIKE,, DID CROSSHAIR EVER ACTUALLY GET HIS FUCKING CHIP REMOVED OR NOT???
Explain again Hunter's enhanced senses and why the fuck he seems to have lost them in this season.
Also answer why Wrecker is the most perfect man ever? Why did they craft the most wonderful man to exist and then make him not real? You trying to kill me or what?
Feel free to add on because there are only the ones on the top of my head.
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neverbesokind · 7 months ago
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Oh my god it's The Alchemy day I have SO many thoughts about this song so I'm gonna try and condense them.
First of all, the song starts and ends with "This happens once every few lifetimes," which is a statement filled to the BRIM with irony, in my view. The entire album up to this point has been concerned with two romances, both of which Taylor states she felt were destined and fated and "storybook" in their own ways. The entirety of TTPD is exploring how these fated, destined, storybook romances could actually crumble, and with it, her faith and belief in the existence of fate and destiny and storybook love.
But THEN... almost at the end of the standard run of the album, Taylor states that she's getting back from recovering from this tragedy - "I'm back / The hospital was a drag / Worst sleep that I ever had". She gets back from the messy process of healing from the events described on the album, and despite everything finds herself falling in love again.
This is why the title is significant, too. Alchemy is the pseudoscience of making a material into something more valuable. And this reflects the emotional process of Taylor falling in love again - she felt like the past two tragedies took the shine off of everything, killed her belief that love could ever work. But then, despite everything, she falls in love again and the normal, even tragic world she lived in before is transformed into something golden.
And then the first line repeats again, to reflect the cyclical nature of what she has experienced. Obviously, "this" doesn't happen once every few lifetimes, it's happened twice before on the album and is happening again in this song. She's falling in love, she's finding something beautiful and fated, and she can't help but find it gorgeous and meaningful, even if she's been shown again and again that she might be proven wrong in the end. And it feels so special that even if it's obvious that it isn't a once-in-a-lifetime experience, it feels that rare and that precious.
In this song, love is the alchemy, the process of turning normalcy into meaning and beauty, and she can't help it.
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weepingtalecowboy · 14 days ago
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Legend as echoes of wisdom link lol but confusing
Fanfic prompt : after Linked universe he decided to go visit Nayru and the other oracles again and then seeing the harp of ages
Realized how he can help Hyrule
Because if the harp can let him travel back several centuries then why not go forward
Because that way he can stop ganon from being revived and Hyrule can maybe travel back with him
He and then travels forward in time and then tries to orientate himself about where the hell he even is… then he sees the riffs through time and assumes that dark link has to learn his lesson again and goes in
He doesn’t appreciate the void for taking his voice… he kind of needs it to figure out where the heck Hyrule is because this one certainly looks too colorful to be the same one Hyrule is from… at least not in the next decades or so
Forests still need to grow after all but good for him that he succeeded eventually
Then he meets lueberry and they figure something out to go create the sword out off the crystal Legend dragged out of ,… hell he supposes
The cloak is cool though
So legend goes beefing with the random copies… so unoriginal of dink to go around and summon even more black blooded monsters or something
Well at least he now has the ability to use gps to find out where the next portal appears
And at some point finds out this Hyrule's Zelda is kidnapped and it sucks but maybe a new link will spawn or something
Then he and ganon get to beef ,,and surprisingly ganon remembers him (talking about the importance of friendship lol )
He then gets sent back to the void but manages to free the new Zelda
Then he at some point finds a random ugly ball thing… man, dink really down graded
He finds it with the club he found chases after it then goes and blocks it before the new Zelda …Nelda can go get kidnapped again
Then legend gets Zelded and now knows how much it must have sucked for fable and Nelda
…he only wanted to go visit Hyrule why must it always be an adventure
He will blame him for it later
He also gets the triforce of courage back while Zelded
Then Nelda is back…but it’s two Neldas now
He then gets freed by one after …she copies (?) a bunch of .. beds (?) and kills the other one
Well , let’s hope it’s the good one who kills the other one he always had problems with Hilda
Then he fights an eldritch abomination and uses the ..prime energy (?) to go restore Hyrule
And his voice is back so the first thing he does is ask , “hey , what’s the date and where the fuck am I .?”
He is surprised when the king turns out not to be an asshole
And fucks off into the RIGHT time promising everyone to stay in contact via the post man
Hyrule wakes up to “I fought the embodiment of nothingness and got vored to visit you be fucking grateful”
He is more confused than he was happy about his brother's return
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doodlejoltik · 3 months ago
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grass knot
[~4.5k words, read it here or on Ao3. tagged with Volo and Lance since they appear as prominent characters; Rei-centric]
Why is it that even the thought of confiding in Akari, his closest friend, makes something constrict in his chest, choking out the words?
Rei, caught in the stirrings of a new arc, tries to rise to its call, but trips over the past at every turn.
A full rewrite of that Mysterious Stones chapter where Volo first shows up, from Rei’s POV, plus a bit more. Written mostly before the Arceus Arc began.
(Setting expectations: a lot of this fic is just Rei Thinking About Stuff haha. Love getting into his head! His characterisation is a little bit different/more nuanced compared to the other Rei oneshot I wrote; hopefully you'll still be along for the ride if you've read that one!)
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“Show me thy bond.” It echoes inside Rei’s skull, down to the very bone, the same as in his earliest memories. He nearly buckles under its weight, but it's a welcome feeling.
After so long without direction, this is a relief. Arceus has finally spoken.
The words fit perfectly with the half-remembered fragments Rei had received some weeks ago in the middle of the night. Why hadn't they been intelligible then? What makes now different? The sync stones ultimate are one factor, of course. Maybe Arceus draws power from them, which is strange to say of a deity, but from what he knows of the Plates, it might not be so far-fetched.
Prince Lear disperses the murmuring crowd; so, the audience all heard it too, not just those on the arena floor. Professor Bellis congratulates Bettie. Cynthia, Lance and Steven whisper among themselves. And his mind still whirls with new theories as they gather together.
What does Arceus want? 
‘Seek out all Pokemon’ had meant completing the Pokedex. At least, that’s what he’d assumed. Now, this time, Arceus likely means for them to showcase bonds with their Pokemon, given the context. But what does that actually entail?
Cynthia’s words cut above everyone else's. “Rei. Was that voice…?”
All eyes are on him. He breathes deeply, steeling himself, as the familiar weight of it settles in. Things are moving, now. 
“Yes. I'm certain. That was —”
“Indeed! That was a message from Arceus!”
His words catch in his throat. Off-balance, suddenly, as all his thoughts fall away, replaced by a swooping feeling he can't quite identify —
He whirls around.
Volo is here.
He takes a few steps back, an involuntary half-stumble, before remembering himself. 
Those flashes of movement he's been seeing, the feeling of being watched, a Togepi, unattended: they’re all now terrifyingly validated. He'd half thought them a product of his overactive mind.
“Excuse-moi, pardon me… but who are you?” Professor Bellis ventures. 
“I'm Volo — a humble merchant who loves history and mythology!” With that, he flashes a winning smile. Rei could laugh at the sheer audacity of it all, but his thoughts are still strewn across the dusty ground, scattered, and they slip from his grasp as he tries to gather them up. Whatever sense of gravity he’d felt upon hearing Arceus’ voice has completely lifted.
“But more importantly!” Volo continues. “When the arena shone brightly, I also heard that voice.” He brings his hand up to point at the air with enthusiastic emphasis, a gesture still so terribly familiar. Rei clenches his fists, feeling the nails dig into his skin. Not really out of anger. More as a reminder.
The last time he’d seen Volo had been. Well. Memorable. But that isn’t the image that smiles back at him now, tripping him up. He's in Gingko uniform again, complete with ridiculous oversized backpack, which Rei had thought discarded, up there on the peak. Apparently not. Had Volo returned later, still seething, to collect his things? The concept is strangely hilarious.
“I wonder… these sync stones ultimate… might they be some sort of test from Arceus? If we could show him that ‘bond’ he desires —”
“Sorry, test? Arceus?” Cynthia interrupts with a frown, holding a hand out. “What makes you say that?”
“Why, it's quite simple. Arceus' presence was summoned by these stones, in this exhibition, and he requests us to further show our bond. What else could he desire?” Volo says, gesturing widely. 
Rei finally pulls himself upright — scrapes his thoughts together into something resembling coherence. The initial shock has drained away, settling into a distant sort of apprehension. He watches silently. Volo’s not really saying anything too unreasonable, but where is this leading? 
There’s so much he doesn’t know. What has Volo been doing, all this time? How long has he been on Pasio? What does he hope to gain, approaching them like this?
He’ll let Volo continue, then. It's an opportunity for some of those questions to be answered.
(And it gives Rei time to think of what to say.)
“Well, put that way, that does make sense,” Steven nods along. “Should we organise for more trainers to try the stones, then?” 
“Oui, I would love to gather more data!” Professor Bellis answers. “However, the stones are still quite volatile. There is progress on this, yes, but for now, I would like to limit their use, capisci?” 
At this, Bettie speaks up. “Yeah, it was weird.” She runs a hand through her Pikachu’s fur, the mouse curled up lazily in her arms. Nobody in Hisui was quite that affectionate with their Pokemon. Certainly not Akari, though she'd grown closer with her own Pikachu over time. As for himself, Decidueye had been standoffish, averse to being carried even as a baby Rowlet. Well, actually — as his distracted mind digs deeper into memory, he recalls — there had been Volo and his Togepi. 
He casts that errant thought away, buries it deep once again. Bettie is still speaking.
“And it was like nothing was there, at first, and Pikachu and I had to concentrate really hard. And then — whoosh! Wow! Overwhelming,” she shifts Pikachu’s weight to one arm to gesture with emphasis, “and all at once.”
“And this is when Arceus spoke,” Lance asks. 
Bettie nods, now subdued. “It was a rush! I think you guys could handle it, but I dunno if everyone could.”
“If I may,” and all attention returns to Volo. “It seems the stones can currently be used by trainers with particularly powerful convictions, and bonds with their Pokemon,” he gestures with a smile to Bettie. She blushes. 
At the casual flattery, Rei can't help the small frown that twists onto his face. It seems innocent enough, but compliments and niceties can so easily mask true intent. 
Especially with Volo.
Volo continues. “Perhaps we might solve this by way of a tournament, of sorts. Allowing Arceus to witness our talent and dedication, with the victor bestowed the honour of using the stones! Of course, the winner of such a competition would have the fortitude necessary to handle such power.”
Well, taking that to its logical end… Volo wants to win, and be granted this ‘honour’ he so conveniently proposed. But why go to all this trouble? The stones appear out in the streets quite often — apparently, found even by preschoolers. Volo should have no trouble obtaining them.
Does he know something they don't?
“Bettie here led the first winning PML team, did she not?” At this, the girl in question smiles Mareepishly. “And that is why she was the one to demonstrate the stones, I presume,” Volo inclines his head towards the Champions.
Informed guess, or something more? He thinks back on half-seen, furtive movements, and wonders. 
“That's right,” Steven confirms. “Bettie is a shining example to us: a leader of the next generation. We decided there was no better choice.” 
“So you suggest we hold another tournament,” Lance says thoughtfully. “Well, there is precedent. Prince Lear,” he turns to the Prince, whom Rei had honestly half forgotten was there. “What do you think?”
Before Lear can reply, Volo reinserts himself into the conversation. “It would be a grand tournament, truly fitting of Pasio's reputation. Why, perhaps, the deity Arceus might even be compelled to descend —”
Ah. So that’s what he intends. “Aren't you getting ahead of yourself there?” Rei interrupts. He means to sound stern, but it comes out sounding more incredulous. Not at the idea itself, but at how brazenly it’s admitted.
“Perhaps,” Volo says with a careless shrug. He doesn’t acknowledge Rei any differently than the others, still maintaining their inadvertently shared ruse. “It's only speculation, of course, but it is exciting to think about!”
“Hmph! I believe I was the one being addressed,” Prince Lear declares, arms crossed. His red shades flash dangerously, eyes hidden under their glint. Directed at him, it's almost like the full glare of an Alpha Pokemon.
Rei’s face flushes with heat to the tips of his ears. Great time he picked to enter the discussion. He quietly ducks his head down; the Prince is in charge, here, after all. He'd rather not test his patience. 
Meanwhile, Volo just smiles, seemingly unfazed. 
There's a part of him that really wants to know how Volo does that. It's just — he's so confident. How can he be so sure that everything will work out in his favour?
“A grand tournament,” Prince Lear ponders, tapping his foot. “And what could be grander than the second Pokemon Masters League?”
“Indeed!” Volo beams. “I'm sure the audience would love to see the clash between a king and a deity, would they not?”
Lear's tapping stills. His guarded stance loosens; he's taken aback. Volo emphasised king, and oh, Lear's official title is Prince. Hm.
There's something more deliberate about it beyond just casual flattery. 
Lear uncrosses his arms and seems at a loss, for a moment, on where to put them before straightening up with his hands on hips. “Is that so?” He laughs. “I like the sound of that!” A pause, unnecessarily dramatic. Nobody breaks the silence, not even Volo. 
The Prince looks around with some satisfaction and continues. “Very well, then. The winning team of the second PML will be granted the honour of using the sync stones ultimate.” He grins, sharply, red shades flashing once again. “Which will include me, of course. Hahahahaha!”
“You have a real gift for making quick decisions!” Volo says cheerfully. The tension breaks. Chuckles arise from the rest of the group, and Rei can only stare in disbelief. That — that has to be mockery, right? But everyone else seems to take it as light teasing, even the quick-tempered Prince himself. 
Against his better judgement, his gaze catches Volo’s. 
He doesn't know what he expects to see: amusement? Satisfaction? Triumph? And there's some of that, but it's a wry, knowing sort of look, like a joke shared only between the two of them. 
Already the others are starting to animatedly discuss between themselves. Bettie makes a teasing comment to Lear, who scoffs. Professor Bellis says something about checking in on the sync stone technology. Cynthia, Lance and Steven form their own little group again, speaking in low tones, and he can't quite follow their discussion. 
It seems like he's the only one who notices Volo quietly slipping away, and he's got half a mind to do the same. 
Would it be incredibly ill-advised to follow him? Probably. But he still has questions. And it’s possible that Volo will let his guard down when they're alone. 
(Even to him, that seems incredibly optimistic. But there’s things between them that he himself would rather only unearth in private. Maybe Volo feels the same way. And even if not, perhaps he'll gloat, or tease playfully, and let on something of use hidden in the thorned barbs.)
It's not like he has much left to contribute here. Tournaments and competitions and organised displays are foreign to him. The Neo Champion Stadium had felt so different from the kind of battles he’s used to… which, in part, could be why he lost. 
He needs to train. If everything rests on the result of this tournament, he has to be ready. 
The group seems to be naturally dispersing, at least — Professor Bellis just excused herself — so he won't be missed. With some quick words, he, too, turns to leave. They can handle this part, and Rei will do his. 
Prince Lear had mentioned a winning team, and Pasio battles are generally three on three, from what he's seen. Who could he ask? There's Akari, of course. And the clan leaders, but it would feel strange to team up with only one and not the other. A little bit too reminiscent of another time. 
His steps carry him nearly to the edge of the arena.
Besides, he's getting ahead of himself. He still has to… well, he should explain everything to them. About Volo.
Even all these months later, it still aches. He had buried it all, hoping to let it rot away, to be free of that thorny mass of contradictory feelings that arose every time he dwelled on it. 
But the longer he waits, the more impossible it seems to explain — to explain not only the events of that fateful day, but also his own, confusing silence on the matter. Though he’s tried to plough the field, turn it all over and start anew, it still lies just beyond the surface, and a single misstep is all it takes to snarl him all over again. Why is it that even the thought of confiding in Akari, his closest friend, makes something constrict in his chest, choking out the words?
(Akari is unquestionably the one person he's closest to. But there was a time when that singular title wasn't so clear cut.)
There’s a sort of tunnel that leads out of the stadium, a long darkened archway that passes under the audience stands. He's about halfway through when he hears footsteps from behind, swift and purposeful strides. 
His breath catches, for a moment. But Volo left first, and the arena had been flat and wide, with no corners to lurk in. Besides, it's too loud. Clearly telegraphed.
Cynthia, maybe? 
He turns. The face that greets Rei is slightly less familiar. “Lance,” he acknowledges the Champion. 
“Rei,” Lance greets in turn, stopping a few paces away. Arms crossed, silhouetted against the light of the arena and framed by the tunnel’s dark, arching walls, his tall figure is — intimidating. 
He can’t help but wonder whether that's deliberate. 
“You left before I could ask,” Lance says, and there's a pause. “As someone who has prior experience with Arceus, what do you think of all this?”
A fair enough question. But the way it's said… sounds a little too carefully worded. Casual, but purposefully so.
What sort of answer does Lance expect? 
“It sounds reasonable enough,” he decides to say. As much as he hates to lend credence to Volo’s proposal, he can't think of anything better. It somehow seems to suit their needs perfectly, which he's sure is no accident. “Back in Hisui, I was told to seek out all Pokemon, so I helped with the Pokedex. In the same way, I guess this could help fulfil Arceus' new request.”
Lance nods along, but his brows furrow. “You sounded more sceptical, earlier,” he points out. 
Ah. Not really his intent, but… “That was about the more…” he casts about for the right word, “speculative part of it. I don't know if it would really call Arceus down, or anything like that.” Though honestly, he doesn't know that it won't.
“What do you think will happen, then?” Lance asks, with clear curiosity, and, well. He doesn't really have a good answer to that. 
“... I don't know,” he admits. “I never actually completed the Pokedex, so I'm not sure what happens after Arceus’ request is fulfilled.” He had been close, but there had still been so many minor tasks that needed finishing, things to busy himself with, to arrange and get in order before he had to face Giratina again. 
He hadn't been ready, yet. Maybe Arceus had grown impatient, and brought him here to confront his problems directly. Maybe it cared. Maybe it didn't. 
(Seeing Giratina with Cynthia had felt a little like he was the punchline of some divine comedy.)
Lance purses his lips and looks off into the distance, out of the stadium, past Rei. He wishes he could read the man’s expressions better; as it is, the set of his brows calls to mind Kamado, and everything else tangled up with it. 
Finally, Lance’s gaze turns directly to Rei once again, and he speaks. “That Volo… you two know each other.” 
It’s not a question, but even then, the expression of unguarded surprise he can’t hold back might be answer enough.
Lance has one hand on his hip, the other, at rest, is framed by the drape of his cape. He looks down at Rei as he states plainly, “His clothes aren’t of modern make, so the logical assumption would be that he’s from Hisui. Cynthia confirmed my suspicion. And, historically, Hisuian communities were few and quite tightly knit. It’s more likely than not.” 
He tries to keep his expression carefully neutral, as logic digs deeper, dangerously close to things unexplainable. And the earth is already recently disturbed, soft, friable. He can’t offer much resistance. “I've seen him around,” he concedes.
“But why did neither of you acknowledge the other?” Lance looks confused; frustrated, even. “Even a passing acquaintance would be notable, with both of you being here in the future.”
And here — this is familiar. The accusations. The questions he can’t answer. But it’s different; it’s not that he doesn’t know the answers. He just can’t seem to put them in an order that would make sense, to anyone else.
(Does he really understand, himself?)
But eyes are on him, and he needs to explain, in whatever unsatisfactory way he can. “Volo and I… it's complicated,” he laughs weakly, tugging at his scarf. “He genuinely does love history and mythology, you know. I guess I wouldn't be that surprised if he was right about Arceus.” All those times they’d pored over ruins together, Volo excitedly babbling on about whatever legend this one related to — there had to have been the seed of something real, something genuine, in that. 
It’s not really an answer. Lance can obviously tell, because he crosses his arms. 
“Is he bad news?” he asks bluntly. 
There’s no twisting his way out of this one.
Some of the panic he’s feeling must bubble up onto his face, because Lance’s expression softens, just a bit. The man sighs. “Look, Rei, I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but us Champions need to have all the relevant information. This tournament, the stones,” he gestures around them, “affect everyone here on Pasio. So I’m sorry about involving myself in your business, but it's necessary. Should we be keeping an eye on Volo?” 
It’s obvious what the correct answer is. And every second he delays responding makes him seem all the more untrustworthy. He questions, a little hysterically, why this of all things is what he stubbornly roots himself for, risking this place he’s made for himself in another unfamiliar land. 
But his jaw works, and all that slips out of his throat, past the thorny tangle, is a “Maybe.” The most ground he can concede. “Volo’s… passionate about Arceus.” Which is perhaps the biggest understatement of both this century and the last. 
There's an expectant pause. He almost leaves it at that, but it seems it's too unfinished a sentiment for Lance. “He wants to be seen by it.”
“The same way you are?” Lance says sharply. Arceus, he picked up on that fast. Rei hopes he leaves it at that. A rivalry fallen apart, twisted into bitterness and jealousy, nothing more.
Nothing world-ending. 
It’s not like he doesn’t trust Cynthia, and by extension the other Champions. It’s just… he can deal with it himself. It’s what he was probably brought here to do, anyway. The thought of someone else turning him over, and finding him lacking — fighting his battles for him — makes him uneasy. 
“Yeah, something like that,” he answers, with a painful swallow. 
Besides, he hopes he can resolve this peacefully. He’d beaten Volo before, even after he’d flipped the rules of battle on their head. And this time Volo can’t upend the script; one good thing about tournaments, he supposes, is that the rules are rigorously upheld. A different sort of battleground.
He wants to laugh at that. Suppositions and wildly optimistic thoughts are his only foundation, and yet it’s enough for him to reject all possibility of outside help.
Then again, if he can’t even bring himself to tell Akari, what chance does he have of breaking that self-imposed silence, here, on less familiar ground?
Lance hums, assessing this. He uncrosses his arms. “If that friend of yours does anything drastic, tell us, alright?” he says. It’s said warmly, but there's something serious to it. An undertone. “Our job is to help out wherever we can, so don’t hesitate to reach out.”
Rei tries for a smile. “Understood.”  
Lance nods, and looks Rei up and down, though it's only a subtle flicker of his eyes. His gaze lingers on the scarf at Rei’s neck, which Rei realises he’s been fidgeting with unconsciously. He lets go with faint embarrassment, feeling caught out. 
The other man sighs. “You can go, you know?” There’s resignation in his voice. Maybe even something apologetic. In that moment, he seems more like Kamado than ever.
Rei doesn’t want to turn his back to him, but he wants to be here even less. So he nods, stiffly, and turns himself around, continuing the dark walk through the tunnel and out the stadium at a steady pace.
He doesn’t run.  
(But his hand hovers by his satchel, where Decidueye's Pokeball rests.)
It’s only when he’s walked for a good while, out into the harsh sunlight, through the town outskirts and to a more forested spot, that the tension drains from him. He sits at the base of a large tree, feeling a little lightheaded.
That was… an interrogation, to put it bluntly. And he can’t really fault Lance for it. To anyone, he's sure, his actions are confusing at best.
Unfortunately, he’s found that he’s less than clear headed when it comes to Volo. He turns over Lance’s final words. That friend of yours. It’s not surprising Lance phrased it that way; everything Rei had said had been carefully woven to lead him to that conclusion.
Except it hadn’t been misdirection, not fully. He does still think of Volo as his friend, despite everything.
He slumps backwards, against the trunk of the tree, feeling the rough bark dig against the base of his skull. 
What is he supposed to do with that?
Apparently, one of the worst days of his life isn’t enough to uproot over a year of growing camaraderie and budding friendship. Too many memories knot together, a stubborn tangle impossible to pick apart. He’s tried not to think about them too hard, but they tighten their hold once again, from where they lay dormant and buried.
Many of them have been forcibly recontextualised. He’s second guessed every helpful gift, every directly admiring word, every coincidental and fortunate appearance, as something deliberate and cultivated. But some of it, it seems, doesn't fit so neatly with that singular goal.
One day, they’d watched Togepi use Metronome for an hour, ostensibly for Rei’s surveying purposes. Important documentation of a seemingly random phenomenon, and all that. In actuality, they laughed the entire time, with no useful or coherent records to speak of, as the results became all the more improbable. 
They’d camped together, those last months, as the search for the Plates got wilder and more exciting. He knows Volo’s favoured way to build a camp-fire, and how he wakes up unreasonably early in the morning, and that he prefers sweet foods over savoury, unlike Rei himself. A hundred mundane familiarities shared, taking root in fallow ground.
Once, Volo had been his only friend in the entire world.
Is it surprising, then, that he can’t lay this friendship to rest so easily?
He wonders what it means, that the hand offered to him at his lowest point was the same one that always meant to drag him back down. And what it means that he still wants to reach for it.
Had any real feelings been sowed there, on Volo’s part? Or was the entire thing a carefully constructed weaving, an intricate field of grass knots laid around Rei, ready to catch him in their snare? 
He can’t quite strangle the hope that something of their friendship still exists, even if neglected and overgrown. And that’s the part that scares him.
He has Akari, and Adaman, and Irida. He has Professor Laventon and the Captain, though they’re far away. Then there’s the Wardens, more friendly faces: Mai, Sabi, Ingo, and all the others; there's Zisu and Pesselle and Beauregard and everyone else in Jubilife. New friends here on Pasio, too. 
He pulls out Decidueye’s Pokeball from his satchel, and rolls it around in his right hand. He has his beloved Starter.
He has friends. He has bonds.
Why can’t that be enough?
The Pokeball he’s holding isn't the original. He'd had to break that well-loved possession in two, and recapture Decidueye in this modern device. It's a distant echo of its predecessor, wooden grooves and clunky iron replaced by smooth metal and near imperceptible seams. The weight of it is all wrong. 
But despite that, it's still his partner, and that's what matters.
(The two broken halves sit in his satchel, too, carried on his person at all times. It's yet another thing he can't bring himself to let go of.)
He sighs, tracing formless shapes in the dirt. His hand finds one of the sparse clumps of grass that grow here, directly under this wide and mighty tree. Deprived of proper sun, it’s a miracle that there’s any at all. 
It seems more and more likely that he’ll end up looking for Volo on his own. To get answers: not only about the stones, and the tournament, and Volo’s intentions with Arceus, but also for his own ends. 
Maybe there’s still something there. A single glimpse of life in this scorched earth between them.
He doesn’t know what he’ll do then.
Where he sits, what little grass there is has grown long and ragged, as their leaves stretch and reach for the sun. He sets Decidueye’s ball down and plucks two long blades. With a few simple loops and twists, they’re deftly woven together into a knot. He considers it, looping it around his fingers; tightens it, pulling on both ends, until he can feel the entire construct threaten to snap from the force. He stops. 
The thing is, no matter if it was never meant to be real, deliberately sowed, intended ultimately for harvest — it’s all the same, to Rei. He wants to keep it alive. He’s hopeful. Naive. Selfish.
For a single, impossible moment, he wonders whether this is what Arceus meant by bonds all along. 
The knot goes in his satchel, where it will turn dry and brittle with time. But kept safe, unbroken, regardless. Maybe his future self will laugh at his sentimentality. Maybe, he won't remember why it’s there. 
Wouldn't that be for the best?
He tucks Decidueye’s ball away, with care, then hauls himself up, both hands braced against the dusty ground. There’s dirt under his fingernails. From under the tree’s darkened canopy, he squints into the afternoon sunlight.
There’s a lot that needs to be done. He needs to train for this tournament, for one. Learn more about modern battling. Pull together a team. With that, ask Akari, and perhaps Adaman or Irida. Confront Volo, somewhere in all of this. 
After that? Only Arceus knows.
One step at a time. 
He finds his footing, around gnarled roots. The grass crunches underfoot. And he steps into the light.
(So maybe I was just snared by the grass knots you laid in my path. But if I wove my own, would you fall for it too?)
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