#volot

[zielonomiwglowie]

They are soo 🥹, idc about Ozar anymore😋!!!

[lilmeowmeowsagelesath]

pretty sure i’ve already decided on these two 🤭

[disastrouslypan]

im sorry guys, but why does he need such a HUGE OBJECT to cover his uh.. crotch..

i just know it's BIG (ok im disgusting sorry)

[hvy-mtl-drmr]

[prisonicmorality]

sorry your post immediately made me think of this

this post lives rentfree in my head jlfkdbjkfgbd i was just trying to find this.

everyone should not pray for volo. he doesn't need to be stronger.

[adcraball-a]

"OKAY SEVERAL GODS THAT LIVE IN MY BACKYARD I NEED THAT TWINK OBLITERATED"

[limbomaiden-a]

[floaroanemoia]

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

     A room full of liars.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

          “…Very well, I believe you,”

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

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

[iruludavare]

⏳ hi jess let's have some quality time with great grandbother

For every “⏳” I receive, my muse will openly talk about a bit of their backstory || Accepting

          "It's weird, thinking back on everything. Realising that I dedicated most of my life to a sport and art form that gets brushed off as being so easy and effortless, when the truth couldn't farther from that. It hurt— it still does. I mean, it's meant to, right? Pushing your body to its absolute limit to sell a character, dance or story. Stereotypes aside, it is true that ballet is an endless pursuit towards perfection that does not exist. It's difficult to believe anyone would love it so much, knowing all of that,"

          "...I've always loved it, despite that. I love to dance. I love the challenge. I've danced on too many sore muscles and through too many colds to count. Still... I don't think the extent of how I really felt clicked until one day in particular. It was like the entire world opened up to me, and everything made sense— why I wanted to see how far I could go; what really was driving me. Surprisingly, it wasn't when I won a competition or passed an exam."

          "When I was fifteen, myself and a few other students had been selected to perform alongside the Sinnohan Ballet. The Awakening of Shaymin. It's a short ballet, but... it's one that meant a lot to me. I grew up hearing about the myth it was based on. I poured my heart and soul into the role I had, the lunar maiden. I remember finishing my variation, looking through the applause looking into the front couple of rows where a few of the older people from my hometown were... and seeing their faces."

          "That was when I realised that it meant something to myself and others. I could make them feel something, offer an escape for a few hours, make someone's vision come to life, or pass down a story that has persisted for hundreds of years. It didn't need words or translation— it could reach people and pokemon alike. And if I had to use my body as a vessel for that, I didn't care. It was worth it. And it always has been. I think that's why, when we were moved to Kalos and I wasn't able to do that, I... felt like a complete shell of myself. Like my life was over and meant nothing."

[yellowsforest]

@volot liked for a starter !

Now that one is different.

He’s in the forest. He’s been in the forest for a while. Yellow has been able to feel him since he stumbled into their domain; his aura is wholly unlike anything they’ve ever felt before.

It’s been a few days now, with him coming and going, flickering in and out of their aura “sight”. Finally, they’ve had enough of just passively taking in his energy; they find him easily enough, and peek out from behind a knotted, fallen trunk.

“Looking for something?”

[fairymint]

⚾️ - Does your muse enjoy sports? Do they play any, or do they simply prefer to watch? Do they have a favorite sport?

Felix isn't overtly a sports guy, but I joke that he's a jock because he's athletically inclined--- so long as it doesn't involve running/speed. Rather, he's good at them! Swimming and Tennis are faves, but he's physically fit. Just has joint/breathing problems when running itself. Found out when I was a teen that I can pitch 99MPH, so he's god at throwing things- accurate, too.

Notably so, Volo's stance is that of a major league baseball player- so it's possible that he enjoys baseball, but somebody else (cough cough @volot ) introduced that HC to my brainspace.

I think my submas twins really like sports, too. idk sports makes me think 'ahhh yes 'Murica' so they might enjoy watching/playing in an old-fashioned man way, grilling and tailgating, etc. etc. They're not sports stars themselves but i can literally hear Ingo saying "hey buddy, you wanna play catch?" jsdklfjklsdf

[lilmeowmeowsagelesath]

cassiel 🤝 vincent 🤝 volot

routes that are currently driving me wild

[limbomaiden]

hahaha ! you're so cute ! ( i know what you really are )

boop! (nefarious)

[romanceclub-confessionss]

Confession:

"I will always side eye anyone who picks the Wolot sprite, idc whatever reason they may have."

[salisburyliam]

Lada after this update:

okay yes it's me i'm lada

[kundaquarius]

I can't stop laughing my god I hate - love this fandom so bad.