#scion of stories and maker of myths. || volo

[forjustice]

"My therapist says I'm obsessed with revenge. I'll show him."

[quasimyth]

@slyginkgo​ 

How strange and forbidden it is, the union between Giratina and Arceus standing before him. Such tension can he feel ‘twixt the two, but not one that’s necessarily ancient; this struggle is old beyond the years, but it’s one of husband and husband. Perhaps rather deeper than that--Kazimir was assigned to Volo as his watcher, it seems--but it is free of the primordial hatred that courses between the Giratina he knows and the Arceus he loathes.

This is not, however, a Volo he can necessarily trust. The man is ever-shifting, hard to read--and that, perhaps, is reason enough not to invite him to the Hisuian Spring Festival. Perhaps not the most tainted soul he’s ever read, but not the cleanest, either. If he pushes further in his soul-reading, he could most likely see the reason why this soul feels so off to him…but not before making his feelings known.

      “So. You’re the other Volo,” he huffs. “What purpose do you have in visiting the Festival?”

He has a feeling already. He can’t think that this man will be up to anything good. But sometimes, it’s the disparity between the response and what intuition tells him that can be the most revealing.

Cynthia stands behind him; he doesn’t need to see her to feel her look of worry. 

Don’t be worried about him, Volo thinks, knowing she can hear. Worry about the Festival.

[forjustice]

"'I'd kill for you.' 'I'd die for you.' Hah! Such sentiments are too weak to express the depths and the power of my love. I can do so, so much more for my family and friends than simply die or kill, and to restrict myself to those things would be an insult to the full extent of my abilities....

"I would change world history for the ones that I loved most. I have already--and I'll do it again."

[forjustice]

I added some stuff to Volo's Johto Moon Festival Moon Maiden Appeal for a private IC Pokémon Contest I'm in OwO The changes made it more elaborate and I think it made the pacing better too. Come check it out!

[forjustice]

Just before the Johto Moon Festival closed for the year...

N and Pokémon adoption centers--these two things were as inseparable as the two O atoms in oxygen. How strange it was, then, that he failed to make an appearance at the Moon Festival's adoption bazar, but it was not without reason. Toward the beginning of the Festival, his Carracosta's shell had gotten cracked, requiring immediate medical attention, and he would not leave his side until the poor prehistoric turtle was fit for discharge from the Pokémon Center. Unfortunately for him, this didn't happen until that evening. Which meant that if he wanted to pick up a Pokémon, he had to act fast.

One of his relatives in the sprawling web of the Volo family had mentioned what was there oh so casually--oh, yeah, did you hear? There's a bunch of Pokémon at the adoption bazar from Unova. You know how Handsome Ditto got banned in Contests there? Well, a bunch of them ended up in shelters and--And he was on his way, blitzing through the streets on the back of Reshiram toward the remainder of the festival. He slowed only to pay the entrance fee for that day, then zoomed past the attendant before she could fully get out the "Mind you, there's only five minutes before the festival closes"--he didn't care. Reshiram flew through the festival grounds at speeds that would make an Officer Jenny hop on her motorbike in hot pursuit, powered by the Fusion Flare lighting up their engine-like tail.

@onlyheartaches' Quicksilver, the fastest being in the world? No, it's N and his Pokémon, when they're on their way to pick up a new Poké-pal!

"I think that's Nathanael," Volo said to her family as she walked with Amaya and the children back toward the entrance, narrowing her eyes in concern as she saw the unholy blaze that that dragon was giving off. "Nathanael--"

But N didn't even hear his name being said as Reshiram slammed into her chest, knocking the wind out of her and sending her careening past the rest of her family.

"NATHANAEL!" Volo screamed as she breathed in, head spinning, her whole body pinned to the Legendary's chest with its speed. "STOP THIS INSTANT!"

"You're not stopping me!" N had to shout over the wind that Reshiram has kicked up with their speed. "I'm a man on a mission!"

And that mission was fulfilled when they descended like a wildfire on the adoption bazar. Reshiram screeched to a stop at its gates at 8:59 P.M., dumping Volo unceremoniously at the feet of the same attendant who suspected her of being a full kitsune and who had to deal with Allie being her bratty self.

That poor woman. Haven't my muses put her through enough?

"We're almost closed," she said. "Is there something you want, sir?"

N pointed to the Handsome Dittos remaining in the field.

"I WANT FIFTY."

The woman stared at him, flabbergasted. Somehow she could tell he wasn't actually completely kidding.

"We, er, we only have three left," she said.

"Then I want three. I'll take your entire stock," he said, with no idea of volume control or how intense he was being. Pokémon were one of his hyperfixations, and the autism had him by the throat.

The lady continued to stare. On one hand, what the fuck. On the other hand, the remaining Dittos had shapeshifted into Zoroark—picking up perfectly on the evolutionary line that N is a Pokésouled of—and had begun to strut and preen. They saw that almighty ball of flame nyooming toward them faster than it would through a whole clearing full of dry brush, its rider hoping to take them home. And that boosted their confidence more than anything else! Of course they’d want to go with this dude, are you kidding?

“Allow me to explain, if you have any reservations," N said, straightening proudly as he began to monologue about the beauty of his passion. "My full name is Nathanael Harmonia Asimov, but you may recognize me as N. While I have to admit that some of my past actions in the defense of Pokémon's rights have been...questionable, my desire to help them has always been unparalleled. There is nothing more bitter to my ears than the sound of Pokémon from any version of Unova being so callously abandoned as these handsomest of Ditto were--" the Ditto look even more pleased at the praise--"and yet nothing sweeter to my heart than giving these Pokémon a home. As a Unovan, especially a Native one, how can I not fulfill my solemn duty to help any Pokémon from my homeland--whatever version of it in the universe it may be?"

Slowly, Volo picked herself back up off the ground; though she was in human form, she shook herself off much like a fox would to get the dirt out of its fur--which didn't do much to correct the attendant's nagging suspicion of her.

"He's a relative of mine. I can vouch for him," she said, not aware that she wasn't exactly helping.

There were a few more moments of awkward stares before somebody noticed.

"The festival has already closed. Is everything all right?" another festival attendant called, heading over. Two choices: Either a no or a yes. She had to make a decision. Now.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” the lady muttered under her breath as she looked down, but soon gave the other attendant a thumbs up and put a smile back on her face—especially because the Ditto seemed to be smiling too. One of them was even giving her puppy eyes, having sensed her hesitation--trying to persuade her with a "pleeeeeeeeeeease?" Pokémon loving these two despite the fact they could be so off-putting must run in the family.

“Well, they certainly seem interested in you, sir,” she said. “And we did make it our goal to adopt out every last Pokémon in these fields before the festival ended. You are….quite passionate about these Ditto. And while I must strongly urge you never to speed through Festival grounds like that again, EVER, I hope that passion will inspire you to give them the homes they deserve."

With that, she handed over the adoption paperwork. N pulled out the necessary fees from his wallet, with the most "shut up and take my money" meme energy he's ever had.

"You know, you could have just gone back to Unova to adopt some," Volo grumbled as they walked toward the exit, still sore over being body slammed and then dumped on the grass like a pile of old clothes.

He was going to get several speeding tickets for this, but it was so, so worth it.

[forjustice]

[Johto Moon Festival '24] KIBBYYYYYYYYY

The moment he heard there was going to be an adoption bazaar, he was on his way--much to the dismay of all but one of the 18 Pokémon there. See, the thing about you and almost your entire family being draconic kitsune is that just about every other Pokémon either is scared of you (prey species and small predators) or wants to fight you (larger predators); you kind of have to take whatever Pokémon take you, so you can't pass up any chance to meet a new one. He rolled up with that sweet little grin on his face which no human can resist, but seventeen of the prospective new companions could still sense the fangs behind his smile. The small, soft ones cried out and bounced away, while the Nidorino and Nidorina stood their ground and hissed. The attendant looked at him like they didn't know what just happened, but with enough suspicion in their gaze for him to want to put their mind at ease.

"Rest easy. I'm a Pokésouled. Not every Pokémon likes that," he said, taking off his hat to reveal a pair of fox ears that he had shapeshifted into place. This seemed to appease the attendant enough to let him draw closer, but they still looked slightly askance at him, like maybe he was a full kitsune wanting one of their Pokémon for malicious mischief.

"I'm here for a Pokémon, obviously," he added. "The question is, will any Pokémon have me?"

A soft meow by one of the cutest little Skitties he's ever seen answered his question. The Shiny Galarian Rapidash-Skitty hybrid ran toward him on her tiny legs, fluffy tail and small mane bouncing as she squealed with excitement. Airi ran between the volunteer and Volo, posing and announcing her presence with a "nya!" The proud, fearless look on her face said it all: I'm an apex predator too!

"There's my answer." He smiled, and laughed as the tiny kitten stood and put her paws on his leg. He scooped up the little bundle of joy in his right hand, and signed the adoption papers with his left.

---------

"LOOK! LOOK! GRAMPA'S GOT A KITTEN!"

He doesn't even need to get close to his descendants before they start pelting toward him. Tovah and Dulce get a few curious stares as they run squealing toward Volo with the newest addition to their family in his arms; Islwyn, the shy one, is completely quiet, but he sprints to keep up with them nonetheless. When the two groups meet in the middle of the festival grounds, the girls start cooing at Airi, running their hands through her extra soft fur.

"It's a unicorn!" Dulce cries, bouncing up and down as the kitty goes 'nya!' and presses her face into the girl's.

"Where did you get her?" Tovah asks. "Can I get one too?"

"Her name is Airi," Volo says. "She belongs to all of us."

Islwyn fidgets, stimming with the hem of his shirt, before timidly stepping forward and reaching to pet the Pokémon with two fingers along her back.

"Come now, there's no need for that," Volo says, gently taking his hand and unfurling the other fingers so he can pet the kitten with his whole hand. He does so tentatively at first, then more confidently, and Airi begins to purr. She's not afraid of the big bad fox--or any of the little foxlings he constantly has with him!

The three children stroke the purring Skitty's fur, so focused on the precious creature that they fail to notice one of the grandmothers in Volo's central polycule approaching.

"Oh?" she says, raising an eyebrow curiously. "How did you manage to coax that one to you?"

"I didn't have to do any coaxing," Volo replies. "There was an adoption bazaar event at the festival, and I just had to go. The rest were spooked, but she actually came right up to me--with great enthusiasm, might I add. It was meant to be."

"She saw the red flags and thought they were the prettiest shade of green," Amaya jokes; he laughs and kisses her on the cheek. Then his wife reaches for the kitten, who bonks her hand with its head.

"I want to see all the other Pokémon," Tovah says. "Where are they?"

"This way." Volo begins walking back toward the center. "The adoption bazaar is only allowing one adoption per Trainer. But who knows. If they let us have another, I will let you three pick!"

Little do they know......>:3

[forjustice]

"When Father's Day was invented, I had a new way of describing my parenting goals: To parent in such a way that my children and descendants would cherish that day, instead of dreading it like I used to."

The day he formerly associated with the crushing isolation of being an abuse victim in a sea of people who loved their fathers was now associated with his children and descendants taking the time to return some of the love they had given to him. Indeed, he has reaped what he has sown--but for once, not in a bitter way.

[forjustice]

Oh, she does want to enter the Johto Moon Festival's Moon Maiden competition....With a very different take on what's considered to be feminine beauty.

[forjustice]

@onlyheartaches

"Happy Pride, my sweet Magneto," he says, placing a kiss on his lover's cheek. "I brought only the most precious present for the most beautiful bicon~"

Tucked underneath one arm is a dome-shaped package, inside which is a helmet in the colors of the bisexual flag. Underneath that package is a box containing an even more bisexual suit than that which Magneto already wears, in a color gradient of the bi flag as a base with golden geometric patterns in the style of old Celestican runic depictions of Pokémon, but bearing the images of a Pokémon that only the descendants of the old Celestica got to see: Shiny Magneton.

[forjustice]

@ancient-pokehistorian gets a starter that's long overdue :3

The Alabaster Icelands were always the place where Ginkgo Guild merchants wanted to go the least. So even though Volo had shown no sign she was all but immune to the below-freezing temperatures and relished the twenty-foot snows that fell even when every other part of Sinnoh was well into spring, Ginter put her on double duty up there because he hoped it'd give her a "change in attitude." How it had pained her to have to pretend to be like all these other human plebians, what with their need to bundle up as soon as a couple of clouds covered the sun and the little thing they liked to call dehydrating in the cold because they couldn't get their moisture from their food. But just as she had planned all along, it got her sent up here because Ginter was under the impression that this was some sort of punishment. Hah.

Perhaps it is a punishment today, though, because of the mess she's got herself in. Damn--damn--damn--when that territorial Garchomp bit her, they bit hard. After a few minutes of firing moves back and forth the other dragon, likely still a youngster of less than fifty years, had fled in a swift retreat. But they were smart, and knew how to aim. The huge bite they left right on her knee? It HURTS. It hurts like it's broken. She's stuck here, still in her AMAB form because even alone in the wilderness she doesn't dare present female, trying not to scream and attract more predators than the smell of blood already will--and she can feel the first flakes of an oncoming snow begin to fall on her shoulders. And she's literally just started checking the bite area when she senses what she thinks is another threat.

It's a man, who she can tell at a glance is a cheerful and perhaps overly eager sort. But her nose and her dragon instincts say something different. They don't say human. They say DOG.

The Kitzoro fur she's shapeshifted underneath her shirt to stay warm bristles threateningly, and she wishes the man could see it. Dogs hunt kitsunes. Kitsunes hate dogs. The fear, the hatred, the revulsion--with her supernatural powers, it rolls off her in waves. She clenches her jaw, trying not to snarl even though this creature might already know her identity in case there's a chance he wouldn't. And then, her eyes blazing with a dragon's fire, she issues a warning.

"I don't need your help." She spits the words. "You have one chance to LEAVE."

Bold words from one who is stranded in the wilderness, on the ground with a potentially broken leg--but if Saburo dares do anything but run, he'll soon see she can back up her words.

[forjustice]

So....She's been passed over for two of the awards in favor of two people who have never performed before....One of the winners had some prior experience performing, but to her, being beaten by a pair of first-timers--even though they proved themselves to be skilled--is positively disgraceful. And to think that Jessilina's performance had been better received than hers, despite the obviously, glaringly unprofessional mistake at the very end...Perhaps Jessilina can comfort herself by thinking that maybe the crowd wants a silly Moon Maiden. But to her, the idea of such is utterly preposterous--especially when her masterpiece went right before it!

This is why, she thinks bitterly, professionals don't compete in competitions judged by amateurs; the vulgar crowd has no appreciation for the deep, the meaningful, the avant-garde. It's a small consolation for her that Jessilina didn't actually win. She does not like losing to a greenhorn, but she'll take that over losing to an obvious buffoon. At least, in her estimation, Blue has talent.

Don't mind her looking saltier than the Dead Sea as she watches the winners get announced--losing to anyone in any aspect of life always sets off her narcissism. Nobody tell her that Kaguya doesn't intend to perform like this again; she'll have an even bigger internal hissy fit about losing to "someone who doesn't even take this seriously."

After the Moon Maiden contestant announcement is over, Airi looks up at her, standing up and putting her paws on Volo's leg, a sorrowful expression on her tiny face.

We didn't win....? the kitten squeaks.

At the feel of the baby's paws on her calf, Volo's hard gaze softens, and that surge of narcissistic confidence returns. It doesn't matter, she thinks, if no one saw her genius this time. She still thinks of herself as the best--and the crowd refusing to see that doesn't change a thing!

"It doesn't matter, little one. We'll go somewhere our talents will be appreciated."

[forjustice]

@kingsthunder (x)

The one big side effect that being a dragon has on xem: it makes it infinitely harder to get along with other dragons.

Not because Volo didn't like dragons to begin with as a human. It was more that every dragon had a competitive spark in them that doesn't always mesh well with other dragons--especially when they're all raising children. Given these instincts, given Volo's PTSD from losing young members of the family on top of it, given Ghetsis has a young prince of his own, and you'd have the perfect storm for these two incredibly powerful dragons ripping each others' throats out--the wrath of the cosmos in Volo vs. the wrath of the whole world in Ghetsis. No matter who won, everyone would lose.

Thank the gods that xe has no small children to raise right now, and they both know that meeting alone without any young ones present quite lessens this burden they both have to bear. Because the fact is, outside the whole 'I'll maul you if you even look at one of my kids wrong,' they both quite like each other. Volo hates kings, but a king of the balance who's also a god of the balance is not just a human pretender to power--they are the role they take, so as long as they're not like Arceus, xe can accept them. And Ghetsis? Well, despite Volo's flaws, he seems fine enough with xem that he won't chase xem out for dropping in uninvited.

When xe walks in, xe sees the king in a contemplative mood--one tinged with melancholy, though Ghetsis being as grand as he is, he carries it well; Volo perhaps would not have noticed if xe did not have the ability to read souls at a glance. There's something troubling the king, but xe knows better than to pry into it immediately. Though xe cares little for the strict rules of interacting with royalty and nobility, xe knows that basic human interaction would also demand discretion in matters such as these--and yet, when xe speaks, xe unintentionally hits on the very thing that had caused Ghetsis that measure of sorrow.

"My apologies, I thought I had informed you," xe says. "Yes, tea would be lovely. What have you been reading lately? No better time to discuss good books than over tea."

[forjustice]

There is now a bunch of little Wooper statues everywhere. Or were they?

No they were definitely alive, as they became a chorus of excited "woo-pahs" all around Volo.

Oh--what a sweet delight! Timebending powers could carry such a huge risk every time they were used, but leave it to Celebi to demonstrate the best possible use of them. Ever since he unlocked his past life as a Kitzoro he hasn't been used to Pokémon approaching him so freely--but perhaps this is a stroke of luck, or Celebi has taken the time to ensure these ones would be friendly. A reward, maybe, for the fact that he's so outspoken about the judicious use of abilities such as timeline retconning due to the horrors his father inflicted on him with it? Either way, he should thank Celebi for it.

Three of his young descendants are playing nearby in the field, chasing each other among the bushes--an Afro-Latina Yumean girl named Dulce, a Shenhuanese-Yumean girl named Tovah, and a Galarian-Yumean boy named Islwyn. He beckons them over to see.

"Come here, come here~" he says, bending down to the Woopers' level and sitting on the ground. "It's time for a Grandpa Volo history lesson!"

Dulce and Tovah come sprinting over as soon as they see the Woopers, Dulce's Afro bouncing with her eagerness; Volo gives them a little "ah ah ah, be gentle" and both, being good girls, slow immediately. Meanwhile, the blue-haired Islwyn is more cautious; shy and sensitive and withdrawn, the noise makes him hesitate at first.

"Come on," Tovah says, beckoning to him with Volo. "They're so cute, aren't they?"

"Indeed they are. Why don't you come and get to know them?"

The children approach respectfully, holding out Poké Treats to the travelers in time. The Woopers closest to them enthusiastically toddle over and start eating out of their hands.

"Okay, so can anyone tell me what these Pokémon are?" Volo asks.

"Mudkip…?" Islwyn questions.

Dulce's hand shoots in the air.

"They're Woopers!" she shouts enthusiastically.

"You are correct! You've been studying this world well," he says, impressed she should be the first to recognize them when she spends most of her time in a world without Pokémon. "Now, can anyone tell me what kind of Woopers they are?"

The children are silent at first, but then Islwyn raises his hand a little uncertainly.

"I'm thinking…Orre," he says. "They look like rocks, and there are a lot of rocks there."

Tovah shakes her head.

"They look like statues carved in some of the Eastern regions," she observes thoughtfully. "They look a bit like some of the statues we have, but not quite. So maybe I'm guessing they're from…Kitakami?"

"I don't know. I swear I saw some statues looking exactly like this when Mommy and Daddy took me to Johto," Dulce says. "That puts them in…Tohjo maybe? If it's not there, Hisui. Grampa knows all about all the old Pokémon in Hisui."

"Right again, Dulce. They are Woopers from historical Tohjo."

Islwyn looks down, embarrassed. He's the oldest one there--eight years old whereas his companions are four and six--but he feels like he knows nothing compared to them.

"Now," Volo says, "I'm going to let you all use some of your Aura sensing abilities. Can anyone tell me what typing they are?"

The children close their eyes. Instantly telling the type of an unknown Pokémon is something that comes naturally to Volo, but it's something that has to be trained in his descendants--and that's what things like this are for. Finally, Islwyn raises his hand and mumbles something.

"Yes, what is it?" Volo says gently.

"Rock and Water," he says a little more loudly, stimming with the hem of his shirt. Then he looks down. He doesn't think of himself as particularly intelligent. "But I'm probably wrong again."

"No, you did an excellent job!" Volo says, ruffling Islwyn's hair. "Tohjoese Wooper are a Rock and Water type ancestral Pokémon. They are often found near large and deep water, or rivers like this one--" he gestures to the river next to them--"and their evolution is called Knollsire. Upon evolution, they grow bigger, and their tails resemble stone slabs with writing. These tails can be used to hold evil spirits."

"I have a question," Dulce says. "If an evil spirit gets trapped in a Knollsire's tail, can it come back out?"

"I would presume not. Why?"

"Well, you see, back home there's a bully at school and I was thinking if I had a Knollsire I could have it trap some spirits and then--"

Volo chuckles and shakes his head.

"I'm not legally allowed to encourage this behavior. But if you decide to do it anyway, I heard nothing." He winks.

"They're very friendly," Tovah giggles as her Wooper hops into her lap. "I guess they really like people?"

"Absolutely they do!" Volo says. "These Wooper love observing humans and human life so they can learn everything about us. Knollsire are even known for using their bodies to make bridges across rivers so humans can cross!"

He turns to Islwyn and Dulce, whose Woopers have started to fetch them stones from the riverbank.

"Is this…normal?" Islwyn says, as he stacks the rocks between his legs.

"Oh yes. It's one of their most notable behaviors. They've seen humans building houses and figured out stones are important, so they like giving humans pebbles. The bigger they are, the more they like you~"

Islwyn smiles as he sees the Wooper give him a rock the size of his fist. Dulce flashes a similarly sized rock and teasingly says, "Mine is bigger."

"Now, it's getting late. The last thing before we go home--" he has to remove some of the Woopers who are clambering all over him--"Can anyone tell me what became of Tohjoese Woopers, and why they aren't around today? Hint: Erosion."

The children turn and murmur amongst themselves, trying to figure out the answer. At last, Dulce looks up.

"Did they all just…Erode away?"

"You're almost there," Volo says. "There certainly was erosion…Of a sort."

More murmuring as they try to find the answer. The two girls seem a little stuck. But Islwyn looks down at his Wooper and closes his eyes again, reaching out with his Aura sensing to see what, if anything, about the Woopers could possibly have changed. He picks up plenty of Rock-type Aura in his, but there's something else there. The Aura itself is like a sediment about to shift and disperse…

Suddenly his hand shoots up.

"Oh! Oh! I know!" he says, the words rushing out of him as he speaks too fast. "They eroded into Ground-types!"

"You got that with your Aura sensing, didn't you?" Volo is positively beaming with pride. "They didn’t erode as much as breed into Ground-types, but same basic principle. You get an extra ice cream mochi after dinner for that one, Islwyn. Don't look down on yourself--you really do have a gift."

The little boy's shy face breaks into a giant smile and he jumps up and down happily before the girls hug him, sharing in his triumph.

When Volo beckons the children home, they take each of their Woopers into their loving arms, and the rest follow behind their grandfather. Today is such a beautiful day--full of joy and learning, a beautiful sweet miracle, and a word of comfort and praise that will be remembered for years to come.

[forjustice]

"WHEN WE FINALLY KILL THE GODS NEITHER EDEN NOR GEHINNOM WILL BE WAITING FOR THEM BECAUSE THEY CREATED THOSE TO IMPRISON US."

"What's wrong, Father?"

"…I'm sorry. Burned my eggs and got upset."

(source)

[quasimyth]

tag dump!