#subspaceswell

[pridepoisoned]

@subspaceswell liked the call. (Palkia.)

Things where aren't should they be.

This doesn't make any sense. Where is here? She can't see anything, but then she blinks. And then she can see it. A figure looming above, below, around. The only figure in her sight, at all edges of her periphery. Everything else is framed in an absolute, undulating darkness.

I am where?

It observes her in silence. Rooted in place, she screams. Thrashes. The silence remains unbroken. The figure remains unmoved.

Eris Evans wakes up in ethereal limbo, before the intangible presence of a familiar god.

Do what you want with me. She blinks again.

What do you want with me?

[distortworld]

@subspaceswell / cont.

the world parts like the sea torn by an enormous claw, and the shadows writhe as It crawls out from beneath them, each claw hauling a body under the weight of a world's gravity that does not suit them.

giratina drags itself into existence, shadowed first and then shedding them like a second skin as palkia's domain spreads around them endlessly -- space all encompassing what was and would be.

the distortion chews at the edges, unraveling where the tunnel allows it to climb -- and it would tear at them for eternity, as the space would allow it to go on and on and on.

kin of mine. it has been too long.

here, it has no need to shout. here, it need not bellow.

the world - do you see?

[abyssonance]

@subspaceswell from here

It seemed there was almost no emotion from their Kindred. A relief perhaps. A worry for later. There was a more pressing and ominous threat made clear.

Some entity that Giratina had tried to track, but it was difficult when you were a singularity with milkions of everchanging mirrors to check. Never mind making sure your powers did not damage the outside world to cause a minor catastrophy.

"You would not fight alone." They claimed, feeling their presence with a calm mind and body. "Be welcome to manifest in my realm."

"Please, help me understand where I have faltered. Is it a hunger, or a gluttony?"

[crownlost]

[ Mmmmhh.. ]

[chronocorundum]

“Oh that is… not good. What did you humans do with the Lustrous orb?”

[heroftruth]

You are not alone in these lonely places and at lonely hours. The space that sits with you feels like you're being watched over.

Something is watching over you. Perhaps your next journey will be safe.

There's something comforting about it, a sense of assurance that prevents any loneliness from forming amongst the quiet. It settles over her, like a blanket draped around one's shoulders on a cold night. For once, being watched over does not feel like a bad thing, it doesn't cause any anxiety to bloom in the pit of her stomach. No, this is more like an allied presence.

[vixletserenity]

There is a watchful eye upon you, accompanying you in lonely places. It is there and noticeable, but not malicious. It feels comfortable, like being watched over instead of loomed at.

She wasn't sure if she should like this feeling. Celeste never was one to like being watched in private by anyone; especially by someone she didn't know.

While Celeste has felt empathetic gazes being made her way, this one just didn't sit right with her.

[mirroredranger]

A watchful eye is upon you. It is quiet, and there, accompanying you in lonely places. Perhaps you will face your next challenge, large or small, a little braver.

And she feels it. Unlike the beasts, it's not a fear inducing one. It feels like an observer watching. There's no stage fright with it. Like a wind at her back, like the warm sun on her shoulder, it's a confidence boost. She's being watched because she does good.

Maybe someday, Valerie can meet her watcher. She'd like to know what what they see.

[murmursdraconic]

There is a watchful eye upon you, the space a bit heavier in the air, but the world a little bit lighter.

She was sitting in the mountains, enjoying the cliffside view. Meditating in the brisk morning air.

Then the air grew dense... but light. A hum in the back of her mind. Then another.

'... I can feel you there.'

Normally great powerful beings brought up Shay's fight or... fight complex. Having a sense of entropy in your presence at a whim was a certainly unique experience. Perhaps the other one was poking around because this entropy didn't originate from here.

'They are fine with me, if that is what you're watching for.'

[princepasio]

@subspaceswell / cont.

An enormous eye gazes down at him and the mischief maker holds one of his golden rings between his hands like a child being scolded. Palkia was infinitely ancient, beyond anything that Hoopa could hope to be -- the thousands of years he had lived were just a drop in the sea compared to the millennia that Palkia had seen and would see.

The seascape in the portal beyond showed the glittering waters of Pasio, with trainers and their Pokemon. It encircled the prince of the island, Hoopa's bonded trainer, as he stared out at a battle happening on the surf.

Isn't it wonderful?

Hoopa's voice echoes in the empty space, despite being swallowed by the bellow of Palkia's movement, so proud of itself.

There are trainers from anywhere and anywhen you might want. It's my little project. And all with my powers still bound up in that little bottle.

[pridepoisoned]

The vibrations in the air are familiar, and start as low thrums in more open hallways and empty spaces. They start over a period of days, the mild aural sound like audible heat distortions.

The hours pass and those thrums turn into deep droning noises, though there's nothing that picks them up as audible.

And then it ebbs and flows like the slow undulation of waves, the feeling of a massive presence that could not be quantified. Titanic does not even begin to describe the vastness of that feeling.

"Hear me," it says- though it does not use words, "I come. I am coming. For you."

The vibrations in the air are familiar, subtle, tickling the edges of Eris's senses and dislodging old, buried memories. During busy workdays, the Devon ascendant finds herself coughing more frequently, heavy breaths catching in her throat and interrupting her charismatic siren songs addressed to the business elite. During sleepless nights, she tosses and turns, wrestling with an unknowable, uncomfortable pressure. (It's as if something is perpetually perched atop her chest. Weighing her down.)

It doesn't take long for the paranoia to set in. Eris's perfectly-composed mask starts to stretch and tear at the seams, revealing pockets of anxiety, bitterness, and anger.

A disorienting dizziness confines her to the underground labs, where she can at least suffer in peace. And then one day, surrounded by backlit screens and eerie contraptions, the 'reformed' researcher's bloodshot eyes fly open in a clarifying moment of recollection. Chain.

She remembers this feeling. Arceus, it's like being thrown back in time. Back when Galactic was standing on the precipice of everything, the leashed god-forms at their supposed beck and call.

(But Jupiter knew that they had never truly been in control. Atop the Pillar, the pressure nearly suffocated her as she fought off Sinnoh's 'heroes' in a tag battle that seemed to stretch on for a painful eternity, surroundings folding over each other like a horrifying kaleidoscope as time and space writhed around them all. It hurt so much.)

And yet, Jupiter still fought for him--fought for their vision, blinded by false promises and her insatiable ambition. When the foundations of their imagined empire had collapsed, she glimpsed an opportunity to disappear amidst the fallout, easily molting her 'Commander' title to make a grand escape and continue her personal evolution into a more monstrous entity...

However, the pendulum always tends to swing back around...and now Eris's past--burdened with all of her sins--is rushing back with nauseating force. Her pulse thuds against her temple as she stumbles out into the deserted, restricted-access hallway, lab coat rumpled and glasses askew. The corridor's darkness seems to stretch on forever, the cold walls bending inwards.

Eris knows this oppressive feeling, but hasn't reckoned with it since a lifetime ago. A delirious laugh escapes from her mouth, and when she speaks, her normally-saccharine voice cracks.

"...It's been a long time," the former commander calls out, her voice echoing, echoing, echoing endlessly down the expanse. She can't see a thing. Her knees shake with equal parts anticipation and fear, yet a wolfish smile still plays on her face. Still so starved for knowledge, even if it means her end--maybe this is all just one, unfurling dream.

"I need to know what you want from me. I thought that I left everything behind."

(Despite her confidence, Eris's leg twitches, always ready to bolt, to escape. Ever the slippery snake.)

[draconscious]

[A roar that echoes from beyond spacetime ripples through the air.]

The roar is unlike any sound she's ever heard, seemingly reverberating out of nowhere from every direction imaginable. Amidst the disorienting, overwhelming cacophony, Clair claps a gloved hand to the side of her head, nearly falling off the back of Linvala, her lake-patrolling Dragonair.

However, what happens next is even more strange. The sound of the roar fades away...and Blackthorn's waters completely flatten out. For just a moment, the city's largest lake looks like an unbroken pane of glass, with zero ripples or chop.

Clair blinks, hard, and everything seems to fall back into place--the watery illusion folding back into reality. Linvala arcs her head towards the heavens and croons, and the orb around her neck flashes in a color that the tamer has never seen before. A few wild Pokemon, as if summoned by the call, surface from the depths and peer upwards as well. Searching intently.

Perplexed, Clair follows Linvala's gaze skyward, but sees nothing. Nothing but a cloudless mountain sky.

...What is going on?

[monterraverde]

There is a ripple as she walks, another day like every other day. It is so quiet, but it cuts through the familiar landscape of the Kantonian streets she's come to know.

It drowns everything out. Not words per say, but impossibly powerful intention to the point where there was no mistaking the message that runs through her head, her skin, her bones, and in the spaces where her heart pauses between beats.

My kin.

Hear me. I come.

I come to fight. Impossibility.

Fight. FIGHT. I COME TO FIGHT.

I COME TO YOU.

HEAR ME- CAN YOU HEAR ME IN THE DARK- CAN ANYONE...

There is a desperation, a panic in the intention, before it fades and the world clarifies again, as if it was but a passing daydream...

If not for the gentle pressure in the back of the neck...

By now she’s used to Apex’s mimicry, limited as it was. He could easily mimic her voice, Sadas voice, anyones voice hes spent a considerable amount of time around- Hell he was even starting to learn Lances voice…

But this wasn’t Apex.

This was something else entirely.

It freezes her in place, as if she’s being scruffed by the universe itself. Arms out, trying to ground herself- But she can’t She CAN’T- Not for lack of ground to touch, but TOO MUCH. It overwhelms her senses, and panic sets in… Until she heard it asking to be heard, and shes compelled to respond.

“I hear you, and I feel you- Whoever you are, wherever you are, I feel you.”

And then its gone, and she takes a breath, not realizing she had been holding it. But she can still feel whatever it was holding onto her, even if just slightly…

Her attention turns to her pokeballs, and she pats her hip once… they’re okay, everythings okay…

But just what WAS that?

“If you want to fight, then bring it…”

[skullkxd]

There's a watchful eye drawn by storms upon you. Sometimes, the whiff of seasalt seems stronger. Other times its like the sea is looking back and waiting.

in the last year, give or take, a lot of things have changed. It seems that with the choices you’ve made, the paths you’re pursuing, more and more things are drawn to you.

Silva. Red. Giovanni. Zing. Rika. Lysandre. Team Star.

and now . . .

You feel it, calling you. You can feel the ocean waves shifting, crashing against the sand. You’ve been out here all day, and something …

somethings different.

“. . .”

somethings watching.

“…

I’m out here. I’m here, I’m ready, if you want to talk to me.”

[pridepoisoned]

Jupiter. An alias ripped down from the stars for her exclusive use, adopted as Galactic grew ever bolder, subtly spreading their insidious influence across Sinnoh until it was almost too late to stop them.

Jupiter. A name associated with the tempestuous celestial giant in some circles, with divinity in others. Regardless of definition, the proffered title seemingly fit the ambitious commander like a glove. Jupiter was often whispered about with equal parts fear and reverence throughout the Galactic organization, and she confidently walked the halls like a rolling storm back then, hungrily reveling in her outsized, near-godlike status...

Now, years later, ensnared in a hellish limbo and hanging before the presence of a increasingly-real deity, 'Eris Evans' has never, ever felt smaller.

Voices rumble out of unseen spatial crevices, cascading together into one austere pitch before fading out again, questions and commands echoing everywhere in the expanse.

Eris shakes her head wildly, shuts her eyes, remembers to breathe. The gift of speech has been given back to her within this liminal void, and the harried scientist half-exhales, half-coughs as she tries not to choke on her regained ability.

Her speech usually flows forth like poisoned honey, a practiced, deadly concoction, but now it rasps desperately from the former enforcer's throat, her amethyst eyes wide as the polished masks fall away from her features as she tries to adapt but fails repeatedly, finally revealing the primal survival instinct etched onto her true face.

"All those years ago...we...we failed, did we not? Cyrus thrown into the distortion, the world pulled back from the brink..." Eris croaks, fists clenched at her sides. "Atop the Pillar, I realized...I don't want to be unmade. And in the years since, I've realized that I want to live. I need to live. So, please..."

Eris wracks the recesses of her memories, trying to dredge up more solutions to the divine queries placed before her.

"The Lustrous Orb..." she whispers hoarsely in a sudden moment of recollection. "Before I left Sinnoh, I remember...I remember hearing news of its safe return to Celestic Town."

Eris can't keep the curiosity from bubbling up in her heart, but she can forcefully bite back the question that threatens to burst forth from her lips (What are your intentions with that artifact?) Questions later. Survival now. Please let me go.

There's still so much to do...

The absolute order of space did not exist in this "no-space". The space apart from time did not organize itself with its brother in a way that could be possible to understand for its captive. There was too much expansion and contraction of matter in the "no space" for it to make any sense to any mind. Space without time was raw primordial chaos, Arceus continuing to make and make without the laws that governed its Becoming.

This place was Palkia's choice.

And They pulled her into this prison for a reason to have her exist here, as her leader now wandered the distortion without sense.

You called yourself Jupiter.

Another name for another celestial concept.

You called Us to Unmake all things. You chained Us to Unmake all things.

To remake the world.

And now all things are Unmaking.

It had been years. Years since then.

Space as a concept is impartial, but as humanity did and does, they gave Space a name and a reason to be vengeful.

What is perfect order to you? Did you pray to be Unmade by your own mortal terror?

The beast that was "Space" was everywhere, as was its voice.

The Great Death comes to take the crucible of the divine. Where is my anchor? My orb?

[murmursdraconic]

@subspaceswell from here

It hurt. It stung. Not immensely. What was strange was the headache she was going to have once her Giratina left her mind.

Immediately Itzal took forefront, out of a protective measure.

W̴̢̧̫̙̮͓̓͝ë̶̙͇͕̜͆͜͠ ̸̨̻͈̻͋͑̈́̇ͅh̵̻̜͇̲͍͛͗e̶̛̝̽̍̔͠ȃ̶̻̻r̵̭͓̟̱̘̣̅̒̈́̆̾͠ ̷̞͖̪̯̯̬̈́̆̀͝y̴͚̜̙̣̙̐͝ơ̷̛̬͕͌̈͌͜u̸̪̥̘̎̿̐.̵̠̺̋̍

We hear...?

She flinched. She held her head in her hands. What was happening...

'̴̡̫̟͓͈̻̌͒̀͋S̴̨̨͈̅͆͛̓p̴̢͕̻̲̝̕͝ḁ̸̧̛̦̲̏͒͒c̴̦̙͛̊̓̒̎͜e̸̛̮̻̼̖̲̪͌͋͑̋͠ ̵̻̬̺̒͋̎i̴̲̜̪̜̓̑̄͒̃͝s̷̤̖͇͇̘͇̄͗͛͋ ̷͍̯̟̣̅͜h̴͓͛͛̽͂̿́ḙ̶̹̙̈͆r̴̖͠ȇ̷̗͍͔̮̾́.̷̪̥̩͇̻̆̅͊̾ ̶͔̤̝̼̺̏͛̈͝ͅS̷̮̃̋͒̂͐̾p̴̬̈ạ̴̘̬̤͝ͅc̶̡̯̰͔͖͐ͅę̶͖́͊̂́̽.̸̧͎̺̖̻̖́͗.̵̣̰̲͈̓̑̅.̸͓̱͗̎̏͝ ̶͙̖̹͗̿̅́̈́͘k̶͉̋͗̋̊͑̈́ḯ̵̢̨̿̔̏̕n̴̜̅̓.̵̨̱̞̜̼̀̒.̸̼́̑͑̍͝.̸̨̛̬̖̘̈͑̾͝ͅ'̷̢̻̠̬̺̍͌̓̅̕͝

'....I got that.'

'̷̻̰̔̕W̴͙̆e̶̳̹͆ ̵̙̻̅h̸̬͛ȇ̸̘̖ǎ̶̯̇r̷̟̾́.̴̨̼̉'̸̫͑

'We hear, okay.'

There. Both minds were linked. the pain was starting to dull. Being in the presence of space and entropy at the same time was going to leave for one hell of an impression later. After more moments, Shay forced her eyes open part way, trying to see wherever Itzal's not quite cousin was.

"You are being heard. What is it you're here for?"