scarredsands

[scarredsands]

Send me “Smash or Pass” + a name and my muse will answer with 100% honesty.

[scarredsands]

does any1 still play pokefarm.... i need trade evo help for my s/a/m porygon line 🙏

[scarredsands]

does any1 still play pokefarm.... i need trade evo help for my s/a/m porygon line 🙏

[scarredsands]

"Every day can be leg day if yer able-bodied n' y'ain't a coward."

[scarredsands]

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In The (newly restored and fully renovated) Under, Saya is a figure of absolute respect. She didn't choose this for herself. Rather, the denizens that were able to return to their homes, their shops, their livelihoods, etc. chose to look to her and view her as a 'leader' of sorts. Both power and money pave the way for respect in a place as lawless as The Under, and Saya has plenty of both now.

Not only is she almost the strongest Elite, she's the strongest Colosseum Leader in the region - and her Colosseum of choice is The Under Colosseum, making it a no-brainer for her to be so highly revered.

There never was any true law in The Under, and there still isn't. It is a totally lawless land beneath the seediest town in the region. However, Saya is looked to as far as settling the most pettiest squabbles, or the most serious of situations. Her judgement is absolute in the dingy community, and folks that don't belong have been ousted and outcast entirely from the underground city.

She partially falls in line with her ancestor, acting as the vigilante of the city. There are others like her, but they're few and far between, scattered amongst the bright neon lights. The Kids Grid has begun operations in The Under again, though it's not really a group comprised of children anymore - those who remain from the original group have all reached adulthood, but the name of their group is too iconic and well-known to change (they haven't thought of anything better either, really).

Saya works with this group when she can, taking on more of the 'ugly jobs' and getting her hands dirty so they don't have to. She is no stranger to dispatching threats to The Under's security and its people through the most brutal of force, and she's no stranger to killing either. When it comes to The Under, there is little she wouldn't do to protect it and keep it safe. She's prepared herself for the idea that she may have to give her life for the subterranean city, and is absolutely willing to do so if it ever comes down to it.

[scarredsands]

With the sun having gone down, Saya's workshop was still fairly hot, but a far more tolerable temperature than earlier. Time to blast some music, and get back to work on her motorbike carcass for Solenoid.

[scarredsands]

Saya wastes no time in stretching her legs out now, letting them dangle over Bal's and off the edge of the couch. Sorry Bal, she was waiting for that moment to capitalize upon. She swishes her drink around in her glass, half tempted to put in another drink order to have brought up for them, but she relents for now.

"Hah," she lets out a small laugh, "yeah, same here. I mean... reckon I wouldn't've minded too much, but I know m'self better. I would've always been hungry fer more than th'Colosseums could offer. Was already gettin' t'that point 'fore this whole League thing happened." Saya pauses and takes a long sip of her drink, a smile crinkling her eyes. "Yeah. I've been dealt shit hand after shit hand, but bein' in th'moment, I'd say m'pretty content m'self. Sometimes I wonder how in th'hell I even got here - 'sides m'skill. I already know I got that."

Sometimes, it all felt like it was a giant dream. And if it was, she never wanted to wake up.

"A Bewear- okay. Lemme just pretend like I know what that is, n' I'll take it as a compliment." Saya says with a laugh, "like... okay, maybe fistfightin' wouldn't work but surely a gun or a bat? A knife?" Even with her lighthearted jokes, it still feels like a small weight was lifted in a strange way. The guilt she felt upon leaving and returning was always there in the back of her mind, even when she wasn't actively thinking about it.

Bal, though... he understood. He always understood her, despite everything she'd been through, and everything that plagued her. Perhaps that was why she felt she could be so open with him. There wasn't ever any judgement.

"...'Course I always come back. If I didn't, I know ya'd come n' teleport t'wherever I was - even though ya know damn well ya might get socked - n' drag m'sorry ass back one way or another." She soon finishes her drink quickly, and without so much as a grimace.

"Although, I gotta give ya credit. Yer gettin' better at stayin' out of punchin' range when y'go n' do that lately. Smartenin' up, I see."

Bal stretches his legs out, neatly sliding them under her bunched ones so he didn't crush her against the couch. He's quiet for a long while, other than is obnoxious slurping through his (stolen) bendy-straw.

"If I am truthful, my dear, I do not know what I would have done had Allister not considered me talented enough. Slaved away in the Colosseum, perhaps." He waves a hand lazily. "But! I must profess, despite being robbed for all I was worth not long after I arrived, I am very happy with how things have turned out. Why, I would nary change a thing."

He laughs then, shaking his head.

"Saya, you are built like a Bewear. In fact, I would sooner challenge one of them to a fist fight. Besides, that is simply how you are. Orre breeds uniqueness. Who am I to judge?" He shakes his head. "You always return. That is what matters."

@scarredsands

[scarredsands]

Saya couldn't help but let out a small snort. "If ya hadn't heard 'bout it before, then that should tell ya our League don't operate like th'rest of 'em. I've never even met any other Elites - reckon they ain't want our company. Their loss."

She tosses back the rest of her drink in one fell gulp, placing the glass back on the bar top with a light, ceremonious slam. Crimson eyes quickly found the barkeep, who was already busying themselves making her another. "Add some cola t'that, if ya would." She'd interject. Although Saya could drive through the desert blind if she needed to, and although she was a woman who could handle her liquor, she'd still rather not wreck her bike from being too inebriated.

A quick glance was cast towards Lucy, noticing the abnormal fizz - almost hiss - to her drink. Saya had to wonder what was in that vial. Perhaps she'd ask later on, if she remembered.

"Yer gonna fit right in then, if that's yer speed." Saya catches her drink once more as its slid her way, condensation already moistening the glass. "A good time n' a lil' trouble..." She leans back in her seat a little, lifting the glass to her lips. "I can make either'a those happen - maybe both." There's a wry smile on her scarred face, red eyes alight with mischief.

The noise in the lonely desert bar picks up a bit more as more customers come in for relief from the heat, although no one makes any move to take up any of the seats next to the two women. "Ah, th'dunes... yeah, damn." Saya whistles low. "That'll do it, 'specially in this heat." She rests an elbow on the bar, and then rests her head in her hand.

"May not be a total loss though. I got m'tools on m'bike - I could take a look at it. Ain't a lot o'vehicles 'round these parts that I can't fix... n' I got a few drinks in me now so m'feelin' more confident than normal."

@scarredsands (continued from here)

Lucy offers an approving nod at Saya's honest retort, arching a bemused eyebrow as the Orrean downs her whiskey like water.

"...Elite Four, huh? Lucky me. Didn't know Orre had anything like that--hope your system is less bullshit than Hoenn's."

The Pike Queen smirks, casually reaching into her pocket to extract a clear vial of mysterious liquid. A single drop is added to her gin and tonic, which hisses like an arcane potion. Raising the glass to her lips, Lucy squints as the 'enhanced' drink burns refreshingly at the back of her throat. A small drop of diluted Roselia pollen, that's the stuff--

"...Call me Lucy. Visiting, obviously," she rasps, nodding once more. "Looking for a good time or a little trouble. Battling, casinos...that's definitely more my speed."

The Frontier Brain leans back with a miffed shake of her head, idly swishing the melting ice in her glass. "...Could've used your advice an hour ago. Bike overheated and nearly fell apart while I was ripping it over a dune--might be junkyard food now."

[scarredsands]

Anya Taylor-Joy as Furiosa Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga (2024) dir. George Miller

[scarredsands]

5 inches. 7 inches. It doesn’t matter. no amount of penis inches will ever be enough. Not after all that i’ve been through

[scarredsands]

re: shipping

absolutely love it, i love crying over our blorbos. but im also the type of writer that really enjoys developing romantic relationships into extremely deep dynamics over time in novella style play. which isn't everyone's cup of tea, i just yearn for rich story arcs and to explore development with both parties in mind when i ship. :3

[scarredsands]

Registeel sits quietly near Saya as she tends to a few of her plants. She'd already watered those that were more intensive as far as their needs went, and now she worked with careful precision to prune a few that were overgrown. The painted terracotta pots her plants rest in added a splash of color to her room.

Her eyes would lift to the desert landscape outside of the windows, watching a distant sandstorm rolling slowly along the horizon. The sky was otherwise clear and blue save for tall thunderheads dozens of miles away - a series of storms that likely wouldn't make it into the lower deserts. They never really did in this heat, unless the atmosphere was just right.

Saya would set her shears down for a moment, lips set in a thin line. Soon, she'd turn back towards Regis. He sat still, previously watching her deft hands at work.

"Regis," she'd finally say, looking up at the large golem, "tell me 'bout yer home."

There was a quiet, pensive whir that left him. If Saya didn't know any better, she'd say there were literal gears turning within - but she knew by now that he was totally hollow, somehow. A series of short and long beeps left him, the red dots on his face lighting up independently of one another in time with the beeps.

'My home... My home is beautiful. Lush grasses and trees surround my tomb. Puddles of water that reflect all above them, like miniature pockets of the sky dipped into the earth - it never ceased raining enough for them to dissipate. Hoenn is... diverse in its landscape. My sibling rests in a tomb along a route that is not unlike Orre's deserts.' Regis would pause for a long while.

Saya moved to sit on the floor across from them now, folding her legs underneath herself. "M'ancestor's from Hoenn, actually. Always been curious 'bout it." She says, breaking the silence between them.

'It is a desirable region to visit for most. I... have not been there in many years. There are some days where I find it almost difficult to recall some of the landscapes there.' Though it was impossible to discern tone through beeps and flashes of light, there was a heavy sense of sadness that burrowed into Saya's heart. Almost as if she could feel his shift in mood in her veins.

"Shit, Regis... Sorry. Didn't mean t'bring up any bad memories fer ya." But in a way, it felt all too familiar. Saya was the same way with The Under, before it had been restored and brought back to life. There was a time where she had forgotten aspects of her own home, torn away too quickly before she could commit it all to memory.

The Registeel didn't say anything for a moment, resting his arms upon his legs - like one would when they sat hunched over. 'Please, do not apologize. If I was not comfortable speaking of this, I would not have. I am sure you understand that, Saya.' They pause again, a low, painful sounding whir leaving them that she felt in her very soul.

'I was taken from my home, a long time ago. Not of my own choice, but by force.'

Something in Saya's stomach twist uncomfortably. She opt to not speak, as the look on her face and in her eyes likely said it all. Instead, she waited for Regis to continue.

'Long ago... many, many thousands of years, I was taken from my tomb. I was taken from the land of Hoenn, far away from my home, and from my siblings. I was taken for my metals - humans wished to utilize it for their inventions and technology... they wished to study me. To find out if they could use me.' A noise akin to a shudder left the steely golem.

'They tried anything and everything to harvest it. Crude tools of weaker metals would snap against my steel. They tried to melt me down, but no fire burned hot enough to do so. There was such a desperation for my steel. Nothing could scratch it. Nothing could even dent it. It stumped them. It made them angry. At the time, the metals humanity begun to use were nothing compared to myself. They assumed they could take from me to spearhead their own advancements.'

Saya could feel her skin crawling. She hugged herself, raking her nails down her arms. "God, Regis, I... 'm so sorry ya had t'endure all that, I- what happened? Why- why did y'let 'em torture ya like that?"

For a long while, he sat silently, before a quiet series of beeps left them. 'I thought it better that I was in that situation than any of my siblings. We are all beings shrouded in great power and mystery. Even to this day, many do not know or understand how we all function. They do not understand what we are made of; they do not understand how we live and walk this earth. I thought my sacrifice would ease any curious eyes that rest upon them.'

A noble sacrifice, from a noble creation. Registeel had millions of years of history wrapped up within them that Saya couldn't even begin to fathom. She had tried before, and each time it made her head spin. A timeless, immortal being, where her own lifespan and time upon this earth was laughable at best.

She swallowed hard, turning her gaze away from him now. "If y'were taken from yer home... n' now yer awake n' all that... why don'tcha go back? I don't want t'make ya feel like 'm forcin' ya t'stay here. I didn't even know what ya were when y'woke up n' rose from th'sands. I just- I don't understand why I was able t'do that in th'first place. I've been past that same spot ten million times on m'bike- why then? Why now?"

The discovery of Registeel on her night out with Magdalena had come not long after Saya's resolve to become a steel specialist, but surely that was too much of a coincidence. Why her? She was just a bastard child, a ruffian nobody from a place that had ceased to exist up until a year ago. Sure, her skill as a trainer was undeniable, but other than that...

Saya looked back up at Regis as he moved a large hand down towards her. 'If I wanted to return home, I would have done so the second I woke up. You understand, Saya. From the tales you told me, you would give everything for yours. I still do not understand what made me awaken in that moment. I had been buried in those sands far longer than this region has even existed, dumped and left to the elements when I could not give my captors what they wanted. They hid me away in this desolate land, fearing that a day would come where someone would succeed where they failed. But... I believe everything happens for a reason.'

She lifts her arm, placing her hand over one of their fingers. There was a new understanding between them now, a new bridge built where there was previously a gap. Though Regis' tale was horribly sad, and one that mirrored her own in some aspects, a part of her felt much more enlightened than before.

"Damn right. 'M gramps used t'say th'same thing all th'time, n' I really believe it." Everything happens for a reason. Just what did the wheel of fate have in store for her, and for Regis? For what reason where they brought together? It seemed as though only time would tell.

Saya stands back up, taking up her shears and going back to pruning her plants. As she snips overgrown stems and trims off dead leaves, she smiles to herself.

"Thanks, Regis."

[scarredsands]

From her chamber she watches lightning dance across the night sky. Arcs of it jump from cloud to cloud, with some striking down to the sand below. In the distance, Saya can see smoldering on one of the mountains - likely being struck and igniting dry brush. All of her lights were totally off, adding to the show. A loud clap of thunder rattles the thick glass that makes up the dome. A dry storm yet again - it was still too hot and too dry even at night for rain to truly fall, but it was nothing short of spectacular.

...

God, she wishes she were out there right now.

[scarredsands]

god she is so deranged i love her sm

[scarredsands]

Life has cursed me with this thing called "rage".

unknown / linnea paskow / k.c. cramm / black iris - leah raede / audre lorde, sister love: the letters of audre lorde & pat parker

[scarredsands]

Saya's name is Japanese in origin, given her mother is Sinnohan herself. Written out in kanji, Saya's name would be 沙夜.

沙 - Meaning sand, sandy, desert

夜 - Meaning night, evening

Given Saya was born near midnight, and given Orre is a desert full of sand, her name is actually incredibly fitting for her. Her name literally means sand/desert night, or desert night rose combined with her last name.