#Transciever

[gouda-nough]

I'm rotating au so hard where the pla Ingo is just Arceus in disguise. It fully trusts in Akari's power and ability to fix up Hisui but maybe she would benefit from emotional support? Texting may not be sufficient... why not a human form?

Sees Ingo in Nimbasa go dad/uncle mode to any skilled trainers that are teenagers (he has adopted Hilda and Rosa to me) and goes yes! That works nicely!

Arceus manages to feign amnesia and hide under the radar entirely even if Volo's tried to poke around looking for information. Only to the humans tho, the pokemon at minimum know somethings off with this guy and probably sense that's a legend.

It gave itself an Arc-Transciever to match with the arcphone but pretends it barely knows how it works. Akari runs him through the functions like a kid teaching their grandpa and Arceus lets it happen lol.

I have specific ideas for the Volo fight and related events but i think i'll save it for a future post. (Future as in like 5 minutes lmao)

[pthariensflame]

Amri (female): clever, intelligent, educated, sharp, skilled, loving, dedicated, witty, powerful, jack-of-all-trades, badass, inspirational, happy

Þlóʻa͜i (male): intelligent, forceful, focused, good cook, methodical

Vwídexhn Mézhnir (female): vivacious, happy, helpful, magical, connector of people, spontaneous

Alyssa “Lissy” Hope Ford, a.k.a. Sequencer (female): powerful, cautious, young, heroic, scared, downtrodden

Kevra (female): sarcastic, powerful, amoral, aggressive, antivillain, in tune with nature, skilled, magical, loner

v͢ʒθ̩ (male): broken, traumatized, intelligent, caring, atoner, last of his kind, frightened, methodical

Due Tuesday 8/27

HW:

Reply to this post.

In your response, or in the notes, or in the tags, please include the names of 5-10 of your favorite characters, as well as 2-4+ descriptive words for each one.

Example below the cut, as well as in the notes.

(I'm doing a data analysis project and I need as much data as I can, so please help me out)

Hatake Kakashi

Smart

Caring

Forethoughtful

Troubled Backstory

Charismatic

Koro-sensei

Super-intelligent

Funny

Weird

Caring to a fault

Warm demeanor

Biscuit Krueger

Smart

Ruthless

Vain

Strong

Cold demeanor

Irina Jelavic

Seems dumb until she needs to be smart

Scene-stealing beauty

Charismatic

Butt of the joke

Troubled backstory

Genkai

Smart

Forethoughtful

Cold demeanor

Strong

Troubled backstory

Master Roshi

Wise

Lecherous

Funny

Warm demeanor

[pikachu78109]

General N Headcanons

By my estimate, I think that N would probably be in his early 20’s. Not quite young (well, still young) but not old. He gets mistaken for a teenager, which happens quite often.

Being adopted and raised by Ghetsis has been a nightmare to say the least. N’s not going to pretend that growing up with this man, whom influenced and shaped his world’s perspective, has been all sunshine and rainbows. Being exposed to Pokémon who have been mistreated has traumatized N, and whatever “kindness” that Ghetsis has expressed usually consisted of empty praises and promises that were always one-sided and manipulative.

Continuing with N and Ghetsis’s relationship, these two were nearly inseparable. Ghetsis had to have N close by so as to not let others get close to him. Creepy as that sounds, Ghetsis didn’t want anyone else influencing N, nor insert their own philosophy onto him. Giving him ideas. Opinions that would shake his worldview. N, at the time, didn’t seem to mind. After all, N had no reason to question Ghetsis, he had no inclination that this man would backstab him one day. N, as a child, viewed these moments with Ghetsis as father-son time. Ghetsis couldn’t care less about the boy; N happened to be another cog, an important cog, in Ghetsis’s master plans.

Aside from Ghetsis “educating” N, the other Seven Sages stepped in as N’s teachers. They were his tutors and taught him math, science, history and the like.

Concordia and Anthea have always been truly kind and supportive of N. Both girls are not blood related but are orphans who were adopted by Ghetsis. Both were found in the forests of Unova: Concordia in Pinwheel and Anthea in Lostlorn. They don’t possess the kind of ability that N has, but their nurturing nature has been a source of positivity and comfort for N while growing up isolated from the world.

When N got older and set out on his journey, he didn’t expect the massive culture shock of being out in the real world to be so overwhelming. Like, initially, he wanted to turn back. However, despite being out of place, N pressed on and hoped that wherever he went, this journey will be worth it in the end.

N’s an avid reader and has absorbed information about Unova from books and other materials that contained information about the various cities, their foundation, and other factoids. While he has never ventured out of the castle to explore such places, N has got a pretty good idea on what each city looks like.

He has a fascination with mythology and likes to adventure in old ruins that are in Unova. Occasionally spends more time in the Relic Castle or at Dragonspiral Tower to uncover more secrets. Would like to visit other regions someday to see their ancient sites.

After Team Plasma disbanded, N kind of wandered. He didn’t have anywhere to go and N didn’t mind. He liked traveling and being able to meet other Pokémon along the way. Still, he might occasionally pay Alder a visit.

N talking fast has people speculating, but really, it’s all natural. Honestly, N doesn’t like to talk for long periods of time and tries to keep conversations short. Oftentimes, he speaks fast due to him wanting to get to the point quickly. However, he’ll stumble over his words or may get incoherent whenever he speaks too quickly. This doesn’t come from anxiety or some speech disorder.

Despite being good at technology, N cannot figure out social media for the life of him.

Whenever N isn’t wearing his hat, he gets mistaken for a girl. He doesn’t mind though. His hair has grown quite long and he’ll put it up in a ponytail if gets hot or wet, or in a braid for fun.

Keeps in touch with Hilda and Hilbert sometimes. They don’t often see each other, but X-Transciever calls are commonplace for these three to talk and catch up. In person, it’s usually in Nimbasa.

This might be odd, but I’ve always imagined N being really into cottage core. I mean, if he wanted to, he could set up a cute little cottage in the woods and tend to the wild Pokémon, just being a humble, cozy fellow straight out of a Disney movie. He has the vibe and I can see N singing with a Pidove perched on his finger like he’s Snow White.

N doesn’t know who his birth parents are or where he came from initially. He just knows that he spent a majority of his young childhood in the company of Pokémon.

N doesn’t like to be hugged by people (Pokémon only). He’ll give a handshake or a high-five, but hugs are a bit much. He never received a hug from another human being and physical contact makes N a little uneasy.

N wishes that he could go back in time and prevent his past self from encountering Ghetsis. It’s a sad thought that plagues his mind with hypothetical scenarios playing out. What would’ve changed? Would Ghetsis have found someone else to use? How would he have functioned living with other people? How would his truths and ideals be challenged? These questions keep N up at night.

Reshiram/Zekrom care a great deal about N. They act like a surrogate parent for him and are protective of his well-being.

For something more light-hearted, N likes to do arts-n-crafts and other activities that involve fiddling with objects. Making bracelets with string, beads, and other accessories are his favorite, but he likes to do origami and other paper crafts. It’s extremely relaxing for him.

[shiftertech]

"You are the firewall."

Do you remember making paper airplanes as a kid? How you would take a sheet of pristine white paper, from some orchard habitat within your trade region, and begin to fold it. Each crease another step in a standarized process, building towards a final goal. Maybe you thought your creation should be unique in some miniscule way, so you added a fold here, made a cut there, bent something assymetric to the other side. You made it yours, but it's still the same design underneath, passed along to children from century to century.

And then the time comes to launch it. You know the goal well: go the furthest distance, or avoid an obstacle, or some other idea of a fun challenge. You ready your arm, dialing in your angle and second guessing how much force you need to throw it, assessing the airspace ahead, prior to loosing it. Everything is perfect, your creases and folds, and your posture, and the very energy of the air, anticipation and excitement rolling off you.

You let your creation free.

An invisible gusting downdraft dips the nose hard. A teachers hand, batting it out of the sky with a scold on their lips. A door suddenly opened and obstructing its path without warning.

And in every instance, your creation lands gracelessly on the ground with some manner of damage. It strikes you that nothing you could have done would have avoided this outcome after the moment it left your hands. Despite your little bends in the wing to control flight dynamics, or your shouts to not disrupt its maiden flight, it happened anyway.

(or maybe you got lucky, and it did exactly what you wanted it to do. Congrats, by the way. I'm proud of you.)

Either way, you only had the ability to set the initial variables. That was the extent of your control, during creation. It was its own agent once it left your loving clutches.

If someone wanted to knock it out of the sky, there is nothing you could do to stop it.

If someone wanted to knock an autonomous Mechanized Battle Unit out of the sky, there is nothing we can do to stop it, if they have enough resources and smart minds. Our enemies have this in abundance.

We've done this song and dance before. It starts with them dropping a whole assault fleet. We dump resources to strengthen our security and they pour capital into breaking that in under a month. We build our own counter-drone teams and they redouble efforts to close the holes in their security. Rinse. Repeat.

It was and always will be a stalemate. There's always going to be an opening. No connected system is free of holes. No firewall can protect against fallible minds.

Yeah, open that unassuming document on your workstation baby—I promise it wont bite! If you do, you wont have to worry about anything ever again.

You see the problem, right? No one side could field a drone unit without it dropping like a rock sooner than later. Our prized angels were relegated to hangers, lest we throw them to be swatted down effortlessly by terminal wizards.

So we start fresh with our sheet of paper to fold anew. This time we make it a closed system, no longer receiving commands from an orbital relay connected to some grunt operator in a frigate's frigid battle room. Rather, we carve a space beneath the alloy hull and its angular folds, and put a flesh and bones pilot-operator there, and hook them up to a neural rig directly connected to the existing mechanized intelligence. We establish communications solely with the pilot, and the pilot works with the mech to execute on orders. A biological transciever between strategic commands and machine. The wetware firewall.

So when we throw our angels into the skies, we aren't throwing disposable toys up with the expectation to eventually crash and burn. We're sending predators, who don't fall over with a simple enter-key push, and have deadly instincts, and a strong desire to seek & destroy. There is however some things we didn't anticipate...

You know when you throw your paper airplane, and it does an extra twirl you didn't intend or design it to do? What if the airplane also spoke back to the wind which carried it? What if it became incomprehensibly entwined with the wind.

Fold and crease. A new creation, far off of what centuries of consensus dictated how a paper airplane was to be made. Who even cares about consensus when it flies higher than any one that has come before it.

Will it ever come back down?

[subway-boss-ingo-official]

Miss Akari found what she calls an 'Arc-transciever' in my belongings. Truly I was not even aware I owned such a thing, though that is not surprising, considering my condition.

Disappointingly, it seems anything that might have been saved on it was deleted during my arrival in Hisui.

[aviatrix-ash]

Skyfire getting ready to leave for the day packing away into his cockpit access keycard, cred unit, commlink transciever (keys wallet phone?).. pauses before leaving, he's forgetting something..

Oh, conjunx endure! Husband gets yoinked and gently packed away into his cockpit as well.

[subspaceember]

trans people should take ham/amateur radio. i’d actually be much more interested in getting licensed and stuff if there were cool trans people in my radio rather than old white conservatives that would treat me like shit. it’s right in the name anyway they’re TRANScievers

[pinkpoweredpunk]

———

It’s a quiet day in Accumula Town.

The sky is blanketed by a silvery layer of clouds, with nothing but small streams of sun casting light onto the gray concrete and asphalt streets below. There’s talk amongst the townsfolk of a storm due to blow in, so everyone seems to be out and about, getting their errands and daily tasks done before the downpour hits.

Blake and Cheren were getting their own days started after spending the night in a rented out room in the nearby Center, sitting on a small wall outlining a garden patch of rose bushes located not far from the cherry red building. The former was currently munching down on a blueberry muffin, watching people pass by, while the other currently seemed invested with the X-Transciever strapped to his wrist, tapping away at the screen. The pair of starters remained close to their respective trainers’ sides, King draping loosely over Blake’s shoulders like a scarf and Ignatius nibbling on Cheren’s shoelaces to entertain himself, puffing out a tiny snort every now and then.

King stirs from her early morning nap, awoken by the sweet scent of her trainer’s breakfast wafting into her nostrils. The Snivy rises with a lazy stretch, before she snaps forward in an attempt to nab herself a bite. Blake’s reflexes are too quick for her, though, and they jerk their hand away from their mouth with a disapproving noise.

“No, the lady at the café already gave you one for free,” they scold, calling back to the other muffin their mischievous little grass snake had practically inhaled on the way here. “The one she gave you because you were trying to steal it from the display rack, by the way. This one’s mine.”

King gives a hiss, as if their trainer is a subject who just unabashedly offended their ruler, before promptly jumping down from her perch on them to go sulk about a foot and a half away from their lap. Blake gives the dramatic display nothing more than an eye roll.

“Here, she can have mine,” Cheren says, never looking up from his watch as he digs into the bag at his side, pulling out the paper-wrapped muffin Blake had bought for him without even asking if he was hungry.

King gets back up to go graciously accept the offering, but is stopped when her trainer pushes the wrapped pastry back towards them with their index finger. “No, you eat,” they say firmly, like a parent lecturing a child.

That’s enough to pull the young man’s eyes away from his screen, as he looks up with this incredulous glare, like they just told him with a full chest that the sky was magenta. “I already told you I’m not hungry,” he scoffs, swatting their hand away.

Blake doesn’t budge. “I don’t care, eat,” they insist, prodding the food back in his direction a second time. “We’re on a journey, the last thing you should be doing is skipping out on meals.”

“I’m not a toddler, Blake,” he grunts, yet again denying them as he moves to get up. “Besides, I don’t have time. I have training to get done.”

Ignatius snaps to attention at his feet, pointed ears perking up as he tapped his hooves against the sidewalk, eager to get moving. Blake didn’t seem ready to give in, though. “Don’t think I didn’t see you forgetting to eat yesterday at Juniper’s lab, too. If you keep neglecting to give your body the nutrients it needs, you won’t have the energy to train.”

“It’s sugar and processed fruit, how much nutrients could it possibly be?” Cheren retorts, fixing the strap of his bag.

“It’s better than nothing.”

With a series of incoherent grumbles, Cheren whirls and rudely snatches the muffin from their hand. “Fine, I’ll eat it on the way there, now will you give it a damn rest?”

Blake nods at him with an impish smile, clearly satisfied with themself.

He could hardly believe the absurdity of it. This trainer that was older by him no more than a year, and almost half a foot below this height, was nagging him like he was a toddler acting out. He wanted to scowl, thinking about how ridiculous the scene must’ve looked to passerby’s.

“Call me when Bianca comes back from her little shopping spree,” he requests as he begins to turn and leave. “There’s not much for us to do in Accumula, so I’d like to waste as little time here as possi-”

“Humble citizens!”

The sound of a voice booming over the town square brings Cheren to a quick halt. Confused, he and Blake swivel their heads in unison towards the commotion. Standing on an elevated, grassy patch of ground overlooking an open space, were a group of people in hooded uniforms. Specifically, ones reminiscent of medieval knights. They stood in a single file line, stiff as if they were an army awaiting a command.

“Please, if you will, gather around!” One of the knights in the front announces, waving her arms urgently. “Our lord Ghetsis has come to bless you all with his voice and his presence!”

“Uh,” Blake eyes the emblems printed onto each of the knights’ suits with bewilderment and a twinge of caution. “Is there some kind of renaissance fair going on, or did I miss something?”

“No clue,” Cheren mouthed, just as baffled as they were.

The knight steps aside and takes a bow, and the row behind her does the same, making way for whoever this “Lord Ghetsis” could be.

When he steps into the sunlight, Blake gets this weird feeling settling over them, crawling up their spine and activating their inner “danger” instincts. They’re not sure why. Exchanging a look with Cheren, they rise from their seat, moving to join the gathering crowd of curious civilians who’ve come to see what the ruckus is about and hanging near the back.

The man that takes the stage is peculiar, is the first impression that crosses Blake’s mind. His most noticeable attribute is his attire- a draping cloak, vibrant with purple and gold shaping a pair of eyes on either side of it. Over it, he carries what they can only assume is some sort of hefty armor piece on his shoulders, gold with square prongs like a crown and the same symbol as his knight buddies embedded in the center. It looks more decorative than practical. Over his left eye, is a white monocle with a red lens.

He exudes this strange vibe. One that Blake immediately decides they don’t like.

“Greetings, Accumula Town,” he begins, voice steady and carrying well over the crowd. “I hope you do not mind my small disturbance in your quiet lives. But today, ladies and gentlemen, I come representing Team Plasma, hoping to speak to you about Pokémon liberation.”

Blake’s eyes are briefly averted to the sides, where they see knights setting up banners displaying their emblem loud and proud for everyone to see.

“I’m sure many of you believe that humans and Pokémon are partners, who’ve come together because we want and need each other,” Ghetsis goes on, closing his eyes thoughtfully and letting his words linger in the air for a moment. Then, they open again, something challenging behind them. “However… is that really the truth? Have you ever considered that we humans… only assume such is the case?”

Cheren’s brows furrow. The corner of Blake’s lip twitches. Neither of them like where this is going.

“Pokémon are subject to the selfish commands of trainers,” He raises a hand, clenching it into a tight fist. “They get pushed around while they’re our ‘partners’ at work… Can anyone say with confidence that there is no truth in what I’m saying?”

Worried murmurs flutter here and there throughout the crowd. “You think he has a point?” “Is that true?”

Blake briefly acknowledges the feeling of King’s tail brushing up against their ankle, glancing down from the spectacle to see her and Ignatius coming up to join them. Intimidated by the large crowd, Iggy jumps to cower behind Cheren's leg, where he bumps his foot urgently with his snout, signaling his desire to be picked up.

"Honestly Ignatius," Cheren sighs, but fulfilling the Tepig's request and bending down to scoop him up by the stomach. "Do you need me to coddle you every five minutes...?"

"Now, ladies and gentlemen, Pokemon are different from humans," Ghetsis continues to preach, never wavering once. "They are living beings that contain bountiful, unknown potential beyond our wildest imagination. Pokemon are beings from whom we have much to learn. Tell me, what is our responsibility towards these wonderful creatures?"

He pauses, giving the listeners a moment to discuss it amongst themselves. "...Liberation?" "I guess so..."

"That's right!" He nods solemnly. "We must liberate the Pokemon! Then, and only then, will they be equals with us humans. Everyone, I end my words here today by imploring you to consider the relationship between people and Pokémon... and the correct way to proceed. We sincerely appreciate your attention."

The grand peroration of his speech draws to a close, and Ghetsis turns to take his leave, his lackeys marching close behind with their banners held high. Not long after their departure, the crowd disperses to go back to their routines, but it's clear there's been a stir in the atmosphere of the quaint little town.

King wastes no time returning to her usual spot on Blake's shoulder, gliding up their arm with grace. Ignatius oinks something to her, a sound that comes off as anxious, and the Snivy replies to it with a nonchalant hiss. Blake can't help but wonder what they're saying.

"That was..." Cheren starts, but can't exactly find the words to conclude his thoughts.

"Total bologna?" Blake scoffs, eyes trailing after the receding entourage of knights as they disappear around a corner.

Their friend stifles a snort. "Yeah."

"What a bunch of wack-jobs..."

-

He only picks them out from the crowd for a half a second, at first.

His only thought them is that their hair color is kind of obnoxious, and that little acknowledgement of their existence is gone as soon as it crosses his mind, their presence fading out and becoming background noise with the rest of the gathering humans.

Lingering there at the very back of the crowd, he soaks in his father's words, the gospel that has been ingrained deep into his brain from a young age. The truths about the world’s wrongs he held close to his chest, that sent his heart crackling with passionate sparks of fury and the need to right them.

Eventually, the knights and the old sage make an orderly retreat from the scene, leaving their message to linger in the minds of the average people. He's about to dip away from the open space himself, and then he hears it.

"Are they going to take me away from Cheren?"

He stops, slightly turning an ear towards the meager little voice.

"Don't be ridiculous," An untroubled hiss that carries to his ears laced with vanity and disgust. "A group of humans parading around in costumes don't speak for what all Pokemon want. Arrogant fools swallowed in their own self-righteousness like that aren’t worth your concern."

His brows lift. His interest is piqued.

He turns. The owner of the voice is a Snivy, lax on her trainer's shoulder. Such bold and certain words to come out of such a young looking creature. Although, after a moment more of looking, he realizes the small grass snake looks beyond her years. Faint scars litter here and there across her hide, and her eyes carry a hardened glare that tells a tale of past experience without needing words.

His attention flicks to the trainer. So do theirs. Deep brown, stoic and unmoved, like wood on a rising bonfire. The other beside them seems at least a little perturbed by the speech, but they don't, holding themself up in a sturdy posture as if the carefully crafted words just preached to their ears only bounced off uselessly like a brick wall. A hand on their hip, a miffed expression.

He observes longer than he intends to, the sense of familiarity creeping up on him. He's seen them before.

The gears click and begin to turn in his brain, but nothing comes of it, and he's left with that gnawing feeling of an unknown answer. It doesn't matter, his mind mainly lingers on the claim from their grass type friend. The anomaly that so abruptly through a wrench in his formula.

"Your Pokemon..." The words whisper from his mouth before he can stop them. "Just now, it was saying..."

The trainer's scowl alleviates, and their head rotates to him, mouth parting in a quiet "huh"? He stiffens and looks up, not expecting their eyes to lock. Their gaze has softened, now, the billowing blaze now having dimmed down into a candlelight, flickering with curiosity.

"Sorry, did you say something?" They ask, and he tenses up more.

His mouth is dry, and he just stands there, awkward tension bubbling up quicker than he can keep up with as seconds tick by. Eventually, he just tilts his cap down, anxiously averting his gaze to the direction he intends to make his retreat. "Nothing," he coughs, turning with haste. "Sorry to disturb you."

-

King’s attention follows the strange man who seemed to leave just as quickly as he’d made his presence known. At first, out of nothing more than boredom. From the glimpse she caught of him, he had an interesting appearance; long tea-green hair flowing out from a black and white cap, odd jewelry donning his neck and his arms.

Her concern only rises once he scurries and disappears down some alleyway. As soon as he’s out of sight, the shadow of the building he vanished behind begins to warp, and she swears she sees some shadowy being materialized from the once empty darkness casting over red brick.

It’s hard to discern its shape. It looks spiky. Maybe fluffy? She notices a pair of blue eyes blinking after the man.

Whatever the entity was, it creeps behind him. King is left wondering if what she saw was anything more than a figment of her imagination or not.

“Anyways, you think we should go and track down Bianca so we can get a move on?”

“Yes. I’ll go ahead and shoot her a tex-”

The conversation between her trainer and her former one disappears as she takes a swift leap off Blake’s shoulder, nimbly pursuing after the creature. Whatever it might’ve been, it had her danger instincts going off in her head like alarm bells. Something was amiss, and she had to figure out what.

“Wh- King!”

Her trainer’s shout falls upon uninterested ears as she takes a sharp right turn, light on her feet as she combs through the alleyway she saw the man and his shadowy companion go down. Leaping over trash cans, crates, fences, a car, and all manner of obstacles present in the city streets, she follows the scent trail all the way until she tracks down where it’s strongest.

She’s found herself stopped at the archway entrance of a heavily wooded area, dense with flowers and greenery inside. A park, or a communal garden, by the looks of it. Maybe both. Her search doesn’t end there though; after a moment of consideration, she lets the scent lead her inside.

Scaly paws follow a cobblestone path, weaving through the garden like a ribbon. It isn’t long before she’s forced to leave it behind, though, veering off to the side as her search takes her into the bushes.

“It’s pleasant here, isn’t it?”

The voice she immediately recognizes as the mysterious man up ahead makes her stop. She looks up from her hiding spot, seeing his green hair resting along the back of a wooden bench.

“It’s nice that humans at least cared enough to preserve one spot of nature while building up this city,” he muses, seeming absentminded as he looks over the lush landscape around him.

“A feeble attempt to atone for their crimes against nature,” a second voice hisses. This one makes King’s nerves stand on end. “A bandage on an open, bleeding wound.”

The man hums, letting his eyes fall shut. “Yes, I suppose so.”

She creeps forward a bit more, trying to get a closer look at his companion. She can see spikes of red fur sticking out over the back rest of the park bench, tipped lightly with black, but not much else.

What is it about this man and this creature that has her so on edge? She can’t help but wonder. But deep down, she is a creature of instinct rather than rational thought, and her troubles will not be eased until she’s certain this duo presents no threat.

Extending one paw forwards, she moves with the intent to sneak closer. That is until a small, concentrated weight presses down on her tail fan, holding her in place. She whips around with a hiss, eyes honing in on a pair of narrow green ones.

“And where do you think you’re going, little sprout?” A menacing voice purrs.

The Purrloin holding her captive grins wickedly, claws unsheathing and ever so slightly digging into the leafy membrane like little pinpricks.

“Release me,” she demands.

“And why would I do that?” The feline counters snidely. “It’s quite rude to eavesdrop, you know.”

Her gaze briefly flicks back to the man and his hidden company. “You know them?”

“I know that you are being a disturbance,” the cat’s voices shifts from playful and taunting to an irritated, low growl. “You would have done best to mind your own business, snake.”

“I will tell you one more time,” King warns, exhaling slowly through her nose. “Release me. Now.”

The Purrloin’s muzzle curls up in a smirk, and her paw only squeezes down harder.

The refusal is clear, and King’s retaliation is quick. In a heartbeat, her vines are lashing out like tentacles, coiling themselves around the cat’s torso. With one, almost effortless tug, she’s plucked the thing right off the ground, sending it careening out of the bushes.

A shriek escapes the Purrloin as she flies, flipping about wildly before she lands on her feet on the far side of the cobbled road, back rising up and down as she heaves.

King jumps out after her, crouching down in a prowl as her now free tail swishes from side to side furiously. The Purrloin snarls and takes a similar position, hackles raised and stance wide.

“You WRETCHED little-!” the cat hollers dramatically, as if she’s had some horrible crime committed against her. “I should shred you into a leaf pile where you stand!”

“Wait!”

Both Pokémon’s head snap towards the voice, where they see the man rising up from his seat, worry plastered over his expression. King tenses, only just now realizing she’s blown her cover and thrown herself directly into his line of sight. Damn anger getting the better of me.

Strangely, he’s alone this time. The creature previously accompanying him is nowhere to be found. It must’ve left during her and the Purrloin’s little dispute.

To her surprise, his posture carries no anger. Instead, his shoulders fall, before he lowers himself to take a kneel on one knee before the pair of Pokémon. “Please, there’s no reason to fight,” he softly pleads, before his mouth turns up into a kind smile as he moves his focus to Purrloin. “My friend, who is this you’ve found?”

“This impertinent reptile was snooping,” Purrloin informs him, casting King an indignant side-eye.

“Hm,” the man presses his lips together in a firm line, before deflating a little through a sigh. “That’s no reason to go jumping into a fight, you know. I’m sure this little one meant no harm.”

He’s talking to her, King realizes. How?

His warm expression returns as he turns back to King. The Snivy shifts uncomfortably under his gaze, still not completely trusting of his intentions yet. “I’m sorry about her aggressiveness, she only means to protect me,” he explains. “You’re safe here, friend. No need to look so tense.”

That does get King to lower her guard a little. Wary, she rises up from all fours.

He stands, moving back over to the bench. Purrloin quickly trots to join him once he takes his seat, hopping into his lap and curling up there. He gives the feline a gentle stroke along the back, before he looks to King and pats the empty space beside him. “Come, sit.”

She finds herself willing to indulge him, against her better judgement. She stays vigilant, of course, but decides to give this puzzlingly kind stranger a chance.

The Snivy settles next to him, and he keeps a respectable distance, keeping one hand at his side and the other rested on the Purrloin’s back. “I heard what you said before,” he starts. “Back at the plaza.”

She tilts her head. She can’t recall what he’s referring to.

“The things you said about Team Plasma,” he elaborates, eyes never leaving Purrloin’s bristly fur as he runs his fingers through it. “You said you find them… arrogant?“

She twitches her tail, the name irking resentment in her. “Yes,” she confirms. “Fools like that who claim to speak for us when they’re actually doing the opposite… I can’t stand them.”

“I see,” he nods, and seems to be processing something deeply. After a beat of silence, he resumes. “I saw you were with a trainer before.”

“Blake,” the moment her human’s name leaves her mouth, she partially regrets it. Maybe revealing their name to a stranger isn’t wise. She silently reprimands herself for her carelessness. “I haven’t been with them long.”

“A pampered little pet,” the Purrloin sneers, licking at her paw. “Shouldn’t have expected any less.”

“You’re one to talk,” King immediately jabs back, baring her teeth at the insolent cat and nodding to the lap in which she currently occupies.

“I am not bound to one of those dreadful capsules your master confines you in,” she trills, grinning smugly. “I’m here by my own volition, pesky weed.”

“Are you implying my trainer holds some sort of power over me?” King scoffs, puffing her chest out proudly. “I am no one’s lap dog. I could turn tail and abandon them at a moment’s notice, if I wanted. If anything, they are a servant to me.”

That statement seems to intrigue the man. “Your trainer... what are they like? How do you feel about them?"

How do I feel about them? It’s a question she realizes she hasn’t quite prepared an answer for. Her eyes drift off to one of the flower beds just across from them, as she sifts through her memories and the impressions she’s gotten from Blake so far.

At first, she found them ornery and annoying, when they chased her all the way across Nuvema Town over something as measly insignificant as a muffin. But then, they proved themself as much more than that when they jumped to aid her in fighting back that furious storm of Pidoves. Reckless, was the word that came to her at the time, but over time it’d been replaced with brave. Selfless.

Up to now, she’s had a few battles alongside them. There’s always a passion blazing in their eyes. The way they shout commands with such intensity, like nothing else matters to them more than the thrill of the fight at hand.

They have the overflowing energy of a green trainer. Yet, there’s something else there that shows they’re much more than that. Outside of battle, their eyes carry an oldness, contradictory to their age. In the middle of the one night she’s spent with them so far, she’s seen those same burning eyes when they’re extinguished. Faraway and despondent, awake but lost deep within the world of their thoughts. She spent that night wondering what is was they were seeing in there.

They carry themself with true, unwavering confidence, not the blind arrogance kind, either. The kind that is built up over time, brick after brick, until it is an impenetrable fortress. They battle with unbridled excitement, yes, but there’s control and expertise behind it. The way they seem to think up strategies on the spot, good ones. Or at least not-half-bad ones.

All in all, they’re... strange. Unable for her to describe in a few simple words or descriptors, like she can with most humans. Bianca is finicky, a people-pleaser. Cheren is studious, with a know-it-all attitude. Professor Juniper is optimistic, maybe overly-so at times, and fixated on her work.

Blake... she hasn't quite figured out yet. Their eyes tell a history unbeknownst to her. She isn't sure why they're such an enigma to her, why they seem to have so many more layers than everyone else to her- maybe it's because they're the first human in a while to catch her intrigue.

"They're... something," is the word she finally settles with. "I haven't been around them long enough to give you a solid answer."

"I see," he accepts it. "Do you like them?"

"They aren't intolerable."

His mouth tugs up in amusement at that, but it's gone quickly. "Do you think you'd be better off without them?"

The question is rather blunt compared to his previous ones. King eyes him skeptically, wondering where exactly he's going with this.

"...That's an odd question."

"You seem generally neutral towards them," he states, not seeming to find any peculiarity in his question like she did. "And you seem capable of providing for yourself, seeing as you appear to have left their side."

She clicks her tongue, head lolling to the side as she crosses her thin arms across her chest. "Having a trainer or not has never made much of a difference to me. The former just so happens to be more convenient."

"That's so?" He still doesn't seem convinced. "They keep you in a metal ball, ask you to fight in their name... Is that truly a fulfilling existence for you?"

There's something provocative in his voice, like he's not just asking questions anymore, like he’s trying to persuade her of something. This interrogative turn in the conversation strikes one of her nerves. This rhetoric that’s suddenly starting to spew from his mouth like venom, it reminds her too much of-

“King!”

The voice of her trainer carrying past the trees is what saves her from snapping at the nosy young man. Her eyes follow the sound, and soon enough a head of pink hair comes into view down the path.

“There you are!” they huff, leaning forward and catching themselves on their knees as they pant for air. It isn’t long before Cheren appears behind them, one arm holding Ignatius in a football carry. “Why the heck did you take off like tha-”

They quickly take notice to the stranger at her side, and straighten themself. “O-oh! Didn’t see you there, sorry.”

“It’s… fine,” he replies meekly, suddenly seeming unsettled by the presence of two more individuals.

King is scooped up by the armpits before she can protest. She doesn’t do anything to resist, though, just carrying a dry scowl as she’s cradled like an infant. “She didn’t bother you, did she?” Blake asks.

“Yes,” The Purrloin spits bitterly from her companion’s lap.

“Not at all,” the man assures them, giving his Pokemon another pat. “I was just surprised to see a Snivy out here all by itself. They’re not a common sight in the wild.”

“Yeah, this one’s just trouble,” Blake snickers, giving King’s head an affectionate ruffle. “Sorry again. I’m Blake, by the way, and this is Cheren,” They gesture back to their fellow trainer.

The man looks a bit stupefied, like he was expecting them to just apologize and leave, not introduce themself. He tugs a bit on his cap, before deciding to give them his name in return. “My… name is N.”

“Like… the letter?” Cheren quips in behind them, and Blake gives him a combination of a glare and a nudge.

“Um. Yes, like the letter.”

“It’s nice to meet you, N,” Blake quickly tries to compensate for their friend’s rudeness. “Sorry for the trouble, and thanks again for keeping an eye on King for me. Catch you later!”

They swivel around to leave, and King thinks that’s the last she’ll have to see of the man and free from his incessant pestering. He stands, though, in a stumble-y way that makes it look like his legs weren’t moving on his own accord.

“Wait,” he calls out, and Blake stops. King peers over their shoulder with a twinge of annoyance, wondering what else he could possibly want.

“I…” He opens his mouth, closes it once, awkwardly curling and uncurling his fingers before he finally speaks. “I… saw you at the rally.”

They blink. “The huh?”

“The speech my- mhm,” he catches himself. King wonders what he was about to say. “The speech that man Ghetsis made.”

“Those Team Plasma bozos?” Cheren huffs. “Or whatever they called themself.”

King detects a slight irk in N’s face when he hears Cheren refer to the group so flippantly, but it’s only there for a moment. “Oh yeah, that,” Blake says as if the event was a faraway memory even though it was a mere thirty minutes ago. “You looked like you were trying to talk to me?”

“I-I was mostly just musing to myself,” N murmurs almost inaudibly under his breath, but then he shakes his head. “I-I mean, um, yes, I… just…” He pauses, bouncing his finger rapidly against his hip as he tries to formulate words. “I… thought… that I recognized you.”

“Oh?” Blake tilts their head inquisitively.

“Blake’s an ex-champion, so that’s probably why,” Cheren reveals oh-so suddenly, without any build up, causing his pink-haired peer to flinch.

N seems disconcerted by this revelation for a moment, unsure of how to react to it. “An ex-champion?”

“Yeah, from Galar, but still.” Cheren continues, totally unconcerned with the details he’s spilling like water from a pitcher. “They also helped stop the Macro Cosmos and Team Flare crises, didn’t you hear about those? They were all over the news a few years ago. People are still talking about the-”

“Okay Cheren, I think he gets it,” Blake mutters urgently, trying to elbow the young man away. “Would you can it for a second?”

He grimaces at them, annoyed, oblivious to what the problem is. “What?”

“That… huh,” N murmurs to himself, soaking in this new information as the two engage in a small whisper-argument. “You… must be a very powerful trainer, then.”

Blake cuts off mid-scolding Cheren to reply to him. “I- I mean- I guess so, yeah,” they concede modestly, tugging at their collar with their index finger. “I don’t have any Pokémon on me besides King right now, though.”

“Why so?” N can’t help but ask.

“They’re all back home in Galar for… reasons,” they try to explain without dumping their whole messy, complicated story on him. “I’m kind of starting over from scratch.”

It’s hard to tell whether or not this answer eases the man’s confusion. His face is slightly creased, like he’s contemplating something. Whatever the case, he decides not to press it more, and changes the subject. “So, you’re both on a journey, yes?”

“Yep!” Blake confirms, seeming to lighten up significantly. “Me and Cheren here are gonna help fill the pages of the Pokédex for Professor Juniper.”

“The Pokédex…” He repeats, and King observes noticeable disappointment settle on his features. “…So in order to do that, you’re going to have to confine many Pokémon in Pokéballs…”

“Oh- I mean…” Blake stutters upon taking notice to the shift themself, wondering if they’ve offended him somehow. “Yeah, but any Pokémon I catch that I don’t keep on my team, I’ll probably release.”

He perks up, but only a little. “You will?” That edge of uneasiness in his voice isn’t absent for long. “…And what of the ones that you do?”

These strange questions and remarks get harder, or more accurately, more awkward for Blake to answer. They’re not sure what to make of this man’s apprehension to something so ordinary to them, and many others. “Keep them on my main team, like I said. You know, probably train them and use ‘em in battles… If they want to join me, anyway.”

Another uncomfortable quiet ensues, N staring the shorter trainer down analytically while Blake just kind of floats there, pupils darting from him to the bushes lining the path. Cheren, hanging to the side much like an impatient child waiting for his mother to finish conversing with a friend at the grocery store, taps at his watch and breaks the silence for them. “Blake, Bianca just texted. Says she’s done and waiting for us at the Pokémon Center.”

“Oh,” Blake turns to him. “Okay, tell her we’re on our way-”

“Wait.”

“What now?” Cheren groans, speaking King’s mind for her. Why’s this guy seem so all up in our business?

He swallows, fidgeting in place again. He reaches for the cube-shaped accessory dangling from his hip, running a thumb over its ridges and pointed corners.

“Before you go,” he centers his full attention on Blake. “I… was wondering if you had time for a battle.”

That aroused King from the slumped, sluggish position she took in her trainer’s arm. Now this was going somewhere.

Blake’s interest seemed piqued, as well. “A battle? Sure,” they agree, maybe more eagerly than they should, but the glint of enthusiasm that sparks in their eye just then is undeniable.

Despite being the challenger, N doesn’t seem to carry the same excitement. He looks more conflicted with his own request, like he’s doing this to figure something out, rather than the enjoyment of it. King doesn’t pay it much mind. He’s signed himself up for an ass-kicking, he can get over it if he’s upset about it after.

“The relationship you display with Pokémon interests me,” he admits, shoving the hand he previously had on his void cube into his pocket. “I would like to know more.”

That remark seems to leave Blake puzzled, but they don’t dwell on it as N makes a come-here gesture to the Purrloin that had previously been snuggling on his lap, having stationed itself on the arm rest of the bench. The feline arches her back up in a stretch, before bouncing down and prowling at his feet, tail swishing with anticipation.

“Blake, do we have time for this?” Cheren grumbles, bumping his friend on the arm with his elbow to get their attention.

“It’ll be quick,” they assure him, before moving back a few paces to get a battle-suitable distance away from their opponent. “N, does one-on-one sound good to you?”

“Fine by me.”

King doesn’t even need an order, once Blake takes position she’s swiftly back on the ground, assuming a combat-ready stance. She only somewhat acknowledges the whir of Blake’s Rotom Phone flying out of their pocket in the background, likely to start filming without prompting from its human again, a habit she noticed with the little ghost inside. She didn’t care. Having her soon-victory over this vexing little cat would be a memory she’d be happy to have recorded.

“It’ll be nice to finally show you your place, weed,” the Purrloin jeers.

“Likewise,” King rebuts.

After a few more words shared between the opposing trainers, ones she doesn’t catch as her ears are too busy seeking the shout of Blake’s first command, the match begins.

———

[hackercult]

just need to be taken care of again for a little bit let me back in the acid tank i just need a few more words with the transciever array it wont be like i want which is exactly why i have to do it

[shingetsu-online]

they should make a mod for the unova games where the transciever facecam things are in the style of the mgs codec call portraits

[foxgirlchorix]

i should crosspost some of my really weird bullshit thoughts here from cohost at some point

whats not to love about shit like "i need to reconfigure myself into a transciever so others can use me for signalling"

[gouda-nough]

I desire to know more about this iron heart au please. I just found it, and am verrrry interested. Don't care too much about specifics. Ramble to your heart's content!!

Hmm. I can talk about Arceus' role the au! I don't think i've mentioned it.

Arceus created IH! Ingo to do Akari's job originally, it wanted to shorten the process of creating a whole new guy. Grabbed the Iron Plate to use as a base (resiliant to a lot of physical dangers Hisui possesses) and a person (which happened to be Ingo) to copy -paste around it.

Ingo got picked bc Arceus' original choice was Elesa but figured she'd be aggressively out of place. Trains are technology during this time period right?? So perhaps a guy based off one of the Subway Masters would have a little of an easier time? Hisui wouldn't get trains at all for another few years so... bit off the mark Arceus.

I'm toying between the amnesia being somewhat intentional on Arceus' part or not. IH! Ingo copying Ingo's appearence/ aspects of his personality but not memories, bits and pieces ending up with him anyway. Or Arceus made a direct copy of everything but IH! Ingo's memory being lost in the Fall.

Putting him in Hisui didn't go great. Imagine you're putting something on a table but just as you let go something shakes the table and sends the item in a different place. That's basically what happened with Arceus since time and space is unstable. It was aiming for Spear Pillar or anywhere else safe enough on mt Coronet. IH! Ingo landed in the icelands, close enough some people from the Pearl clan found him.

Arceus waited around for a bit, wanting to see if IH! Ingo remembers his Divine Mission or anything (i do think he has an Arc-Transciever but it doesn't work) but... nope.

New plan from the almighty creator, steal the one that quelled Palkia, Dialga and Giratina in the future and get her to fix things. Maybe land her somewhere safer since she's just human. Behold!! Akari!!

[pokedelivery-girl]

okay so! i've been working on and off on this bunch of modifications for my xtransceiver (both software and hardware)

and look at this!!

[Video description: Calli holding out her wrist in front of her, modified X-Transciever (PCB board sticking out and all) parallel to a screen at a route terminal. There's a bit of fumbling with the camera, before it suddenly moves in on her arm and back, as Calli presses a button on the device on her wrist. There's a small progress bar (stating "sending" right above it, and as soon as it reaches "5%" the screen suddenly turns off. There's a faint wisp of a giggle as the clerk looks at the screen in confusion before shrugging. The video ends after Calli quickly turns the camera downward.]

i upgraded it with an auxillary IR light that's actually bright enough to trip up sensors. there's alot more too (i can read pokéball chips with it now too fufufu) but this is all i'll show now.

i will be responsible.

[groupalpha]

hey 13es, check this out i messed with an old frequency transciever to get it to capture really low frequencies, and put it as close as i could get to a void sea what do you think these sounds are?

13ES: Hm... from what I know, the sound is fairly accurate. As accurate as it could be, as the recordings of the void sea we have are rather damaged.

As for what I think the sounds could be... I'd like to think of a few possibilities. It could be the void worms, or the void spawn, or maybe the natural hum of the void sea itself. I'd think the natural hum of the void sea is the best option as void fluid can be quite corrosive if not handled properly.

[bells-n-wisps]

playing some more stray, here's the notes:

-5P used to hang out where the Guardian in og Stray is (since that's where Suns is)

-so after Suns and Pebbs have more arguments about the Outsiders 5P decides to room w/ Momo for a bit

-NSH and Clementine room together

-speaking of clementine when you get her notebook the note in it mentions blazer

-most iterators will room with companions because there's not enough space

-anyways i need to talk a lot about Momo and 5P for a second because there's a lot to cover

-1: It's platonic. Don't even try. Sunstone is staying.

-2: Usually when you meet Momo in game he's kinda pissy about the transciever and stuff. In the AU, 5P does not help with this. While he is an Outsider, he's slowly getting more and more wary because his shutdowns are becoming more common (meaning there's more zurks/zurk-rot). When you get all the notebooks, 5P is still wary and only decides to go with Momo to sewers after Doc comes back with the functioning zurk killer in Moon-12

-3: As previously stated in another post, Momo knows what's up with Moon, so when 5P has a harsh reaction to Moon-12 it doesn't take long for Momo to ask what's wrong (which would happen while Monk and Survivor are in Rooftops for convivence's sake)

[teddypoi-qd]

{VD - various drawings of Professor Layton, accompanied by various other characters, along with audio of Tom Scott introducing himself from various places.

"I'm in Weldon Spring." - Layton standing in the foreground as Luke and Flora climb a set of stairs in the background. "I'm in Gävle." - Layton and Luke, in scarves, looking at the Gavle Goat. Don Paolo lurks behind the goat. "I am in the abandoned city of Pripyat." - Layton, Luke and Flora in an abandoned theme park. Luke is looking scared, holding Flora's hand. {whispered} "I'm inside one of the Inchindown oil tanks." - Layton, with his finger on his lips, in a room full of machinery. Luke and Flora look into a large hole in the wall. They are all wearing white jumpsuits and hard hats with headlamps. Layton's hard hat sits on top of his top hat. "I'm off to the Arctic for three weeks." - Layton, Luke, Flora, Emmy, and Desmond, all in warm clothing and holding suitcases. "I am not inside a fusion reactor." - Layton on a radio transciever, crouched next to an anxious looking Flora. They look like they're in a fusion reactor. "I'm in Hull." - Layton, Desmond, and Emmy at an arcade. "I am at Disney World." - Layton, Luke and Flora at Disney World, with Mickey Mouse. They are all wearing mouse ears (Layton and Luke's are both on top of their hats). "I'm in an airplane bathroom." - Layton on the toilet, reading a newspaper. "I am in an unpowered glider." - Layton and Luke in a glider. Layton's hat is off, and Luke is holding it on his lap as he looks out the window. "I am in Iceland." - Layton in front of a geyser, which Emmy is photographing as Luke gets splashed. "I'm flying a few thousand feet over Lincolnshire." - Layton in a fighter jet, wearing a helmet. "I am under the English Channel." - Layton and Flora in a sewer system. They are holding hands, and Layton has a torch in his other hand. "I am still in the Arctic." - Layton in a snowy village. Emmy and Luke are admiring a snowman. Flora is tugging on Desmond's arm. "I'm on top of a hill." - Layton on a picnic blanket on a hill, reading a book to Flora and Luke, who are cuddled up on either side of him. "I am in Baton Rouge." - Layton and Luke standing on the bank of a river, with a large bridge in the background. They are both holding their hats to prevent them blowing off in the wind. "I am squinting into the sun." - Layton and Luke being partially blinded by a briight light. "I'm in Swindon." - Layton, Luke and Flora in the Laytonmobile, driving past a sign for 'The Magic Roundabout' "I am about to cross a road." - Layton, Luke, and Flora crossing a road. Both kids are holding Layton's hands. "I'm in Bristol." - Layton and Desmond leaning on a wall, both drinking hot drinks. "I'm on my way back from the Arctic." - Layton, Luke, Flora, Desmond, and Emmy, all taking off their cold weather clothes. "I am at space camp." - Layton in a human gyroscope. Luke looks on, holding his hat. "I am putting myself at risk of being sued." - Layton and Luke in a courtroom, dressed as Phoenix Wright and Maya respectively. The actual Phoenix and Maya look on, stunned. "I am at a party." - Layton and Emmy in partywear, holding champagne. Emmy is in a pink dress, with a white flower in her hair. Layton is in a white & cream 3-piece suit with a matching hat. "I'm at the Eureka weather station." - Layton, Flora and Luke at an Arctic research station, dressed in cold weather clothes. Luke is pointing to the station. "I am with Norm." - Layton and Randall, grinning together. "I am back with Norm." - Layton and Randall, again. Randall has pulled him into a side-hug. Angela and Henry look on fondly. "Last time I was outside this pub with Norm, he taught me how to strangle someone." - Randall holding Layton's hat up above him. Layton is reaching for it. Angela and Henry are reaching to intercept. "I am back in the UK, and I have a cold." - Layton, in his pyjamas, in bed. He looks tired. Flora and Luke are at his bedside. Flora has medicine, and Luke has a bowl of soup.

END ID}

Professor Layton when Dean Delmona asks why he isn’t showing up to teach his classes

Audio is from this video of Tom Scott introducing places