#history repeats itself ★ { bw2. }

[doublebattled]

Hilda had been in fights before. Out behind the school parking lot, after everyone had gone home for the day. She didn't always win, but she made sure they weren't going to piss her off again. And even then, that only happened when she was good and angry. Usually, it was for someone else's sake. The scumbag who had asked Bianca to homecoming as a prank. The guy who made a point to never "remember" her brother's name.

This wasn't the first time she'd swung at someone in a Plasma uniform, either. Not by a long shot. Fuck all of 'em, dragging them all into this mess! Hell, she'd even tried throwing a punch at Ghetsis! That one didn't end so well for her, but she thought then that was every bit as furious as she could feel.

But standing in Opelucid when the ice hit...

The last few months come to mind. Angry, sleepless nights. Pulling on every thread that might lead her back to Plasma. Trying to retain some fucking semblance of normalcy for everyone, because they had their own damn lives! She shoved her worst fears down into a box and under the bed, because if she let herself think for even a second that maybe they already lost...

That sharp sting of freezing air hits her lungs, and something just... snaps. She doesn't remember spotting the black-clad grunt, necessarily. Obviously, she did - it happened - but all she can recall is the thud he'd made when she tackled him onto the ice.

She didn't even remember what came after that. Next thing she knows, someone dragged her off of the poor bastard. He probably looked pretty bad, because she knew she had blood on her hands. Her knuckles ached. Her head ached. She thinks she remembers screaming at him. Demanding to know where her brother was, where Reshiram was, where Ghetsis was so she could--

"Hilda!" Cheren. It's Cheren. Her heart is still pounding in her ears, but she knows that. How long had they been friends, after all? And... shit. She hadn't even told him she was looking for Hilbert.

It feels like the last three months hit her all at once, staring at the unlucky grunt on the ground in front of her. Everything aches. She's so damn tired. She blew it. She blew it, and now this whole city is a glacier. Her brother is probably dead! And--oh, god, were those fucking tears?

"...Come on, Hilda. Let's get out of here."

She doesn't have it left in her to argue.

[doublebattled]

And hear it Zekrom can. The sound is so sickeningly loud that it hurts. They pull their arms away from Hilda to shield their ears. Not just the reverberations, not the hum, but the awful dissonance from Kyurem himself.

It was said, in ancient times, that those who could sense the Dragon Force felt it as a beautiful, sustained hum. A note struck on a tuning fork that never faded, ever present and gentle in the back of their heads.

This... whatever they felt from Kyurem was a cacophony. A billion notes from the entire orchestra and every last one was out of tune, and it only grew louder and more chaotic the closer he got.

They can't lose another one. They can't fail her. They can't. Not again, not again—

"Lu—H-Hilla, go!" They command again, shouting over the cacophony that's only audible in their own head. Covering their ears won't help them any, so they instead use their arms to shove Hilda away in the hope that it's the push she needs to finally run.

Hilda herself feels like she's frozen to the ground, even as Zekrom gives her a shove and she nearly looses her footing. He has the Light Stone.

What the fuck did he mean by next?

She wants desperately to take the bait, as much as she knows with every last ounce of her body that it's the dumbest thing she could possibly do. All of the anxiety that had been building up in her mind suddenly bursts. There's nothing left but white-hot fury and she wants so, so badly to unleash it.

So why is it, when she's finally able to find her voice, she sounds so damn scared?

"What the fuck did you do with my brother?"

— A smirk splayed from under his visor. Oh he knew that kind of look anywhere, of arrogant fools who dare thought they could take him on. He whistles an ancient tune, hauntingly beautiful if it were not for the circumstances, and he takes a single step forward, ice instantly crystallizing under his boot.

"Oh please, what is that look for? C'mon show me what you're made of, Heroine." He leans in and points at his cheek with his free hand, a tap tap on the rim of his helm. "Let me see if you still have that same foolhardy determination the last time you tried to punch your way out of trouble."

Kyurem chuckled as he twirled his spear once more, continuing his approach with the crunch of frost spreading faster and faster. It was clear that he was honing in on Zekrom, but the moment they uttered his name he frowns some.

"Hmm, no, I am merely their Knight in Shining Armor, as it were." He steps forward. "After you and your twin have dethroned our beloved King." Another step. "I am merely here to collect our due."

The dark fire from his lance flickers and jumps to a particular spot behind his belt. The knowing look he gives the dragon was borderline evil, daring them to continue that thought. As a reward for piecing it together, he reaches behind him:

And pulls out a peculiar white orb for them to see, flaring with that sinister violet flame.

"You are next."

With a heavy swing he slams the bottom of his spear into the ground, releasing a strong vibration that reverberates all throughout the tower. It is imperceptible to human ears but it is dissonant and deafening to those that can. The walls rumble once more and an ominous hum can be heard from the lower floors.

"And there is no where to run."

[doublebattled]

they are judging you

(this is a tag dump)

[doublebattled]

@maliciousmelodies // slam dunks a starter

"I guess if we're working together, I should give you the rundown of what I know. Though, fair warning: it ain't much."

She takes a swig of her... what number coffee is this? Fourth? Fifth? Man, she's tired. Once they find her brother, she makes a resolution to kick his ass for stressing her out so much.

"Bert got recruited by th' Interpol not too long after everything went down. I guess he was trying to track down Ghetsis, but I don't really know what all he found out. Interpol won't give me any details. Just that he went totally dark 'bout a month ago. Reshiram, too. Zekrom knows somethin's wrong, but that's about it. I figure Plasma must have something to do with it, but... whatever that shitbag is up to this time, he's keeping it pretty well under wraps. Driftveil was the only lead I had."

[doublebattled]

@weisskunig // N was right to not want to deal with Hilda

"You!"

Hilda grabs a fistful of N's shirt. Free hand balled into a fist. She probably should have learned her lesson by now about picking fights, but that was too little too late. She'd spent the last few weeks pulling on whatever threads she could get her hands on. Anything that could lead her back to Plasma—and it had to be Plasma, she knew that much.

Unfortunately for N... he was the only lead she'd been able to track down so far. (And, unfortunately for Hilda, he was also the wrong one. But she'd find that out soon enough.)

"Where the fuck is my brother? What are you up to this time, jackass!?"

[doublebattled]

Alright. So this was more important than whatever grudges they both had. Good thing, in this case.

Though it doesn't seem to come naturally, Hilbert scrambles up the wall after him with relative ease. All that physical training Interpol put him through had paid off, it seemed. He drops down and catches up to N.

"That's it, yeah." There were other details, but nothing either relevant or specific enough to be of much use here. Too many unknown factors. He surveys the building as best he can from their position, holding the scale of it in mind. How easy it might be to get in or out undetected, if it came to that.

"We know there's someone out there buying up most of the pokemon they smuggle in. Don't know why or who. I'm looking for something to lead us back to those guys."

We don’t have time to bicker, our window is closing! Blueberry’s retort kept N from continuing their little spat, and he bared his teeth in frustration. He didn’t like working with anyone for that matter, but Interpol, or Hilbert, or Hilda – fine. Whatever. He’ll just deal with it for now.

“Fine, but you’d better move fast. Madeline, you know what to do?”

Of course. Be safe, N.

He gave a nod to the serperior, before glancing back down to Hilbert, “You’d better hurry, their guard shift is happening in three minutes.” And with that, he turned and hopped down over the gate, keeping to the underbrush and outside parameter. “We heard they were coming in from other regions and exporting –” he curled his lip at the word, “ones from Unova out. Is that true?”

[doublebattled]

so anyway

[doublebattled]

"Alright. This time, we're gonna crack this." Hilda paces around the top floor of Dragonspiral. Weeks. Weeks of this, slowly collecting all of the information she could possibly find on the new Plasma, about whatever the hell it was they were up to, about her brother.

Please, let this be it.

As Zekrom's go-to hideaway, it served as the perfect place for Hilda to try to collect information somewhere well and truly private. She knew all too well that the League's safety wasn't guaranteed, after all, and her apartment—well, she didn't exactly have faith that her apartment was even remotely secure. She'd had to pick her own lock more than once after forgetting her keys, and it was alarmingly easy.

So Dragonspiral it is—it had the added bonus of being officially labed as a protected site, meaning anyone without league approval wasn't getting in or out willy-nilly. And even then, the upper levels are all nigh inaccessible to anyone not on dragon-back these days. In short: the perfect spot to hide away from Unova's ongoing chaos and assemble what they knew.

(Whether the complex looking pins and strings they'd assembled on the wall was more helpful than it was a hindrance, well... that was anybody's guess.)

Zekrom remains seated on the floor in front of the pinboard, studying it intently. They couldn't help but worry for their sibling just as much as Hilda. For months now they couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that settled like a pit in their stomach, that something horribly wrong was occurring in the Unova region.

"Alright..." Hilda muses, continuing to pace around the floor, "We know what they're up to now, at least—kinda—but we still have no idea where they're actually based. You said you can't tell where Reshiram is, exactly, but N might be able to narrow it down based on what some of the former Plasma grunts know. That means that—"

Hilda stops abruptly as Zekrom grabs hold of the hem of her shirt, stopping her in her tracks. They look grim.

"Hilla... something feels wrong... We need to leave. Now." / @kyuureimu 👀

[doublebattled]

@unovasrose // BW2 THREAD BW2 THREAD BW2 THREAD

Man, this search was already proving to be a lot of running around in circles. First paying a visit to old man Alder to see if he knew anything—for a retired guy, he sure still got out a lot—then following his lead to pay a visit to Cheren over in Aspertia. (That had been a fun argument. The last thing she'd wanted was to get told off for not telling him about Hilbert yet, as if she hadn't only learned recently herself.) And then finally circling back around to Virbank in hopes of catching this up-and-coming new trainer before she made it to the gym. (Good thing Zekrom was crazy fast, huh?)

Seated on the curb just outside the gym, Hilda doesn't have much to do but hang out while awaiting her target. (Geez, that sounded kinda bad, didn't it?) Good thing she had some lucky timing! Cheren hadn't been kidding, this gal's hairstyle was pretty distinctive.

"Hey, pigtails—...uh, sorry. Cheren told me your name, but I kind of suck at remembering 'em." There was a reason she resorted to nicknames most of the time. "Nice job beating him, by the way."

"Iunno if you know me—Champion Hilda Blake. D'you mind if I get in the way of your gym battle here for a minute? I wanted to ask you somethin'."

[doublebattled]

⬆ has suddenly been confronted with the fact that her brother may be dead, everything has gone to shit, two dragons are now under Plasma's control, and there is absolutely no help around for miles

[doublebattled]

"Hear me out, okay—Plasma already has their whole stupid knight theme, right? And, like, yeah, sure I can totally have my team deal with them or whatever. BUT! If they're gonna get violent, then I should totally be equipped to deal with 'em. And, like, my punching arm ain't as good as it used to be."

"In conclusion, I should get a sword."

[doublebattled]

"I wanted t'make a cool entrance by jumping off the gym roof like ol' man Alder but Roxie yelled at me. Ain't very punk rock of her."

[doublebattled]

" so yer tellin' me ya ran through my town without tellin' me!!? "

"I kinda got a lot going on, Clay. 's nothin' personal, I promise—I'm just going crazy looking into this whole Neo-Plasma garbage. Don't really have time to drop by and chat."

[doublebattled]

@castleclysm // [bounces in my seat] b2w2 thread!

Hilda wasn't sure she'd ever felt this sort of anxiety before. An awful gnawing pit in her stomach that wouldn't go away. Stupid Hilbert and his stupid disappearance. (Yes, she would blame her brother for his own missing person status. And she would continue to do so until she had a better place to direct her anger! Lucky for him, she was hot on the trail of a lead.)

Collecting rumors was an easy task for a Champion, but sorting out the BS was its own problem entirely. As best she figured, Driftveil was the only concrete lead. It was the only rumor that could be confirmed by multiple people, at any rate.

A shame this was turning out to be a total waste of time. Even though Clay had confirmed that the local Plasma "base" was little more than a pokémon shelter, Hilda had to check it out for herself first. Subtlety was not her strong suit, but she was giving it her damnedest to have a look around the place without having to talk to anyone. (No idea how well received she would be, especially if they were keeping secrets.)

That particular approach wasn't turning out to be especially helpful. (Shocker.) Going in and asking questions it was. Or so she had planned, before running into a familiar face at the door—

"You."

[doublebattled]

[doublebattled]

Hilda's first instinct is to grab hold of Zekrom, as though to shield them from any falling debris. Dragon or not, legend or not, Hilda knows all too well that at the end of the day, they're still just a child, and her first instinct is to protect them.

Her blood runs cold. Figuratively and literally. She feels the temperature plummet as though she stepped into a freezer. Zekrom's grip tightens, and she instinctively pulls them closer. She feels like the floor is going to buckle underneath her. This... sensation, whatever it was—it felt all too much like that day two years ago. In the league, in the castle. But the figure that appears this time...

A knight. A full-on, motherfucking knight clad in full armor. If it wasn't for the situation at hand, Hilda could almost laugh at how absolutely absurd it was. A lance-brandishing, draconic-themed knight wearing a Plasma insignia! God, Ghetsis was even more insane than she'd thought!

"Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me," is about the most coherent response she can muster.

Hilda is rarely at a loss. She lets her gut make the decisions for her, not her brain. If it comes down to fight or flight, she chooses fight. Every. Single. Time. If she could, she would rush in—same as she always has done. To hell with this guy, to hell with his stupid lance, to hell with Plasma.

It's only Zekrom's hesitation that gives her pause this time.

The pit in their stomach has turned rapidly to nausea as every last fiber of their being screams that this is wrong, it's wrong, it's wrong. And everything suddenly fits together. Plasma's plan, the disappearances, that awful sense of dread that's been haunting them ever since this all began.

"It's Kyurem." Their voice is soft, and then louder: "It's Kyurem. That's what happened to Resh. That's what happened to—"

Oh god. Hilbert.

"Hilla... you have to run, okay?"

— Ah, the dragon's instincts for danger never failed them huh?

As if on cue the desolate walls of the old tower began to rumble, followed by a loud crack. And again. And again. It was quickly becoming apparent that this wasn't some kind of centralized earthquake or storm, no, it was coming from the base of the tower itself.

Again. Any loose rock or structures within the room began to topple and crumble.

Again, and the pathway that would have been it's one secure entrance seemed like it was going to cave at any moment.

Dark ominous clouds encircled the sky. Suddenly the air pressure dropped and the temperature with it, forcing a chilling blast of wind into the walls of the tower like a vacuum. Whatever moisture that still lingered instantly flash-froze, leaving slicks of ice and frost flitting down on every inch of their surroundings.

Thud. Thud. Whoosh. From the mists a dark figure had effortlessly scaled the sheer sides of the tower, rising into the air with a streaking trail almost like wings before gracefully landing onto the top floor, couching as the dust settled.

And oh did the aura this figure emit was sinister. Stifling, like it would choke out all the oxygen in the air. An armored knight, clad in sleek black and accented silver, wielding a giant spear with its head resembling that of a winged dragon. Emblazoned on the pauldrons was an unmistakable insignia.

The insignia of Team Plasma.

Slowly the knight rose to his feet, and in a dazzling flurry he spun his spear around him in a flourish. The tip of the blade screeched and scrapped along the stone and let out sparks of violet and gold before aiming it directly at the reigning champion.

"Heroine of Ideals," he droned, low and menacing. He flicked his wrist and pointed the blade to the figure clutching behind her, those same sparks immediately bursting into a dark flame. "Zekrom," and oh, what a nasty little purr did that sound coming from his mouth. "What a pleasure to find you both here."