#OR it’s a ‘for later’ after arven is born plan

[katzenkarussell]

Turo and Sada continue to wear their wedding rings despite their split in hopes to mend what they had one day. They try rationalize it to themselves that they continued wearing it out of habit.

[electricprincess96]

I think the AIs are more of a parent to Arven than the real things. The human counterparts were obsessed so much, they alienated everyone and caused harm later down the line. The copies wish for this to stop, but are under programming to carry out dying wishes for selfish people. NGL, I think it'd be interesting the AI lied to help their son, as they genuinely saw him as their own.

See I can get behind this. I'l admit the AI were "nice people" held back by the fact they were programmed by not nice people. The AI very well might have loved Arven and wanted to care for him but couldn't however the actual professors did not care about Arven. In one of the books in the labs it has the Professor talking about how their partner left them not long after "that boy" was born. They don't even use his name.

I'm not mad at the people who like the AI versions of Sada and Turo I'm mad at people using what the AI says as proof the actual Professors somehow loved Arven and that excuses their neglect when they likely didn't, and even if they did it doesn't excuse neglecting him.

We know the AI does not agree or want the same as the OG Professor anymore because they deliberately involve us in trying to stop the Professors plans thus we can't assume the personality, relationships and goals we see the AI take on is even remotely close to the real Professors.

[cringywhitedragon]

Kill La Uva AU HCs: Little Ralts

A young and shy little Pokémon that has also been spotted around the academy alongside the even more mysterious Gallade that inhabits the school grounds following The Transfer.

Do note that there will be some spoilers for later on in this AU so do be warned, those will be marked.

Compared to the Gallade, the Ralts is even more shy and elusive. Almost always when a student tries to approach it, it will flee. Though there are some exceptions with the younger students and if you are patient, the little one may approach you then.

The little one is rather fond of some of the Pokémon under the care of the Academy, namely Charlos. The two Pokémon have been seen playing together by some of the student body but the Ralts usually runs off after sometime after being seen.

This Ralts is a female

The (Satsuki’s) Gallade is really protective of it. He isn’t often far behind wherever it goes and will fiercely attack if anyone makes move at it. Some students learned the hard way when they tried to catch the poor thing only to get suddenly lunged at by a scarred Gallade with one of his blades extended. Following that little incident, most of the student body knows to leave it be.

The Ralts is not very good at battling. Because of this, she prefers to avoid fights and will often just flee when in danger as the Gallade is enough to deter any possible threats.

She grows rather interested in Ryuko (And her at the time, Sprigatito) and ends up following her around throughout her Treasure Hunt, much to the annoyance of the latter. Though she does eventually grow to develop a soft spot for the little one after a specific point

Speaking of, this section will be dipping into some major spoiler territory for this AU. Proceed at your own risk. Also some major TWs for mentions of abuse, injury, and death so please be careful.

It’s later revealed that the Ralts is the child of Satsuki’s Gallade. Having been born sometime not long after the Pokémon had arrived in Paldea from him and an unnamed Gardevoir who had rescued the Gallade after an attempt by Ragyo to “dispose” of it (Which of course, did not work as it always does.)

She ends up evolving into a Kirlia while trying to protect Ryuko that results in her getting hurt, forcing the little Pokémon to end up having to travel with Ryuko and the group for some time. This little incident does help to strengthen the two’s bond.

Ends up staying with Nudist Beach during the COVERS Climax when Satsuki’s Gallade goes to rescue its trainer despite his own deteriorating condition after the previous fight with Ragyo. She does want to follow but decides to stay behind for a comatose Ryuko.

Even after Gallade’s eventual return with its rescued trainer in tow, he soon collapses and eventually passes away. Leading to the Kirlia, choosing to honor its parent’s legacy, to stand up and fight Raygo herself and even joins the Player in the hunt for the Treasures of Ruin as part of a counterattack plan.

She ends up finally evolving into a Gardevoir right before the final fight against Raygo while defending the Protagonist/Player.

After the defeat of Raygo and the Life Fibers, making the end of the COVERS Climax, she ends up staying with Satsuki for the time being, not following Ryuko, the Protagonist, Mako, Arven, Nemona, and Penny into Area Zero for The Journey Home (Though she does join Ryuko’s team for Blueberry Academy)

And for a more wholesome moment HC now that all the darker ones are out of the way

Ryuko and the Ralts (Now a Kirlia during this Arc) end up bonding during the Kitakami Field Trip.

[dispatches-from-the-lorecord]

Larry makes surprisingly good mission control

[January 28, 2023]

{Haji:}

Stray musing

Terra: The Voices are excited, but this all feels wrong.

Arven: Excited how? Like it's a new challenge or that things are going as planned?

Larry: Hm. Well if They're behind it, I'm sure everything will be fine. There's usually a motive behind it.

Terra: [They both turn to see him. Pleasantly surprised] Larry? What are you doing out here?

Larry: [Dry amusement] Looking for you. Boss's orders. [Holds out a page to her] In case you haven't heard, does this mean anything to you?

Terra: [Confused as she takes it. Even more confused as she sees that yes, she's been hearing this a lot, but how would he know?] "Get diploma. Beat Nemona."?? [Looks up at him as her friend takes the page to read it too] I'm back at school now. I don't see why your boss should care about me graduating though.

Larry: [Shrugs] It could be that, but after everything else you've been through, I would think you'd learn by now things aren't always as straightforward as they seem.

[There's a brief ripple across his image, and she swears for a moment he changed colors to reveal a redheaded man with bright grin eyes. She shakes her head as though she imagined it, but Larry merely places a finger to his lips to quiet her.]

Arven: [Noticed nothing as he reads the page] Beating Nemona is friendly engagement, right? [Softly] I hope she hasn't gotten involved in all this...

Larry: [Sighs] I don't make the rules. Believe me, I've tried. Is there anywhere you haven't made it to yet?

Terra: [Slightly suspicious of him now, but they'll talk later.] How would I know if I've never been there?

Arven: I guess it doesn't matter. If everything has changed, we may as well check out the places we've been too.

Larry: Good luck with that then. I've delivered the message, and have my own stuff to get back to.

 {Trollkitten:}

Larry: [Sighs] I don't make the rules. Believe me, I've tried.

kek

{Newbie:}

i take it his "boss" is Wyatt? and if so... what's Wyatt's investment in all of this? 🤔

{Haji:}

I think most of those aware of all this are invested in the fixing of the universe right now (whether it be the colliding or separating of worlds, it's really shaking things). Question then is who all knows about it? Although I laugh to think Wyatt is staying out but urgently keeping tabs through Larry because they realized how unstable Paldea is during Scarlet. If it's getting worse, we don't want to risk anyone else getting corrupted by all this, so send in someone both already corrupt and has control of themselves around Glitchery 😂 More specifically, I guess Wyatt would be concerned about a Randomized region full of Pokemon that shouldn't exist because his was much the same. His Pokemon are now one of a kind that the world straightened out but they were born in chaos

{Trollkitten:}

For some reason I feel like whatever the anniversary run is will be important to making connections between RV+ and the anniversary run. I'm certain that there must be some connection (a bold claim to make when we don't even know what that run is, but I have a hunch that can't be ignored), I just have no way of knowing what it is rn I guess if anyone's qualified to investigate this mess, it's probably Larry

{Haji:}

Same. As I said before, it's too early but I just feel like anniversary could be a big one

{Brespawn:}

Beating Nemona is friendly engagement, right?

I'm now imagining Terra starting a fist fight against Nemona. :tppLUL:

{Haji:}

Arven has been around us to know that IS a legit question with her :LUL:

[elliemarchetti]

A Red Lover part 8

In the beginning the chapter was born to be longer, but when I realized that it would become practically a novel, I decided to break it in two, so let's say that this could be considered as chapter 8 part one. @chaoslaborantin a thousand times thank you for the wonderful comment to the previous chapter and for your support. I hope you like the first, short court meeting between Thomas and Mare. 

Previous chapters here 

Words count: 2092

Thomas hadn’t seen Maven for thirty-four days. Every day, with a fork, he engraved a notch on the skirting next to the bed, to keep track of the passing time. It was nice to leave a mark, to cause a little damage to the golden prison, comfortable and well furnished,   where Maven had thrown him, apparently forgetting about his existence. His Reds jailer didn’t mind; they probably hated that place too. Yet they continued to serve here, to remain silent, to keep their position, seated for six hours on either side of the door like living-eyed statues. None of them had ever returned, and Thomas wondered what Maven did of those he sent to check on him. Did he kill them? It wouldn’t make sense. He probably replaced them for fear that they would pity him. But in their eyes, he didn’t read any kind of feeling. What lie was told to them? Thomas didn’t really want to know. In any case, no lie could have been worse than reality. He was a killer, and he hadn’t killed in war, to defend himself, when the choice was to kill or be killed. He had deliberately enjoyed seeing the body of that witch burn in the flames; his spirit had risen to new life at the sound of those screams. He had become a monster, just like Maven, just like the one he despised so much. Or maybe the choice not to use someone else for his own purposes made him better? These were questions that he had no answer to and that he didn’t intend to pose to his jailers.

Sometimes he still dreamed of Maven. Nothing too articulate, just flashes of his face, his dark hair, his broken promises of love. There were no mirrors, not even in the bathroom, but Thomas knew that imprisonment and silence were ruining him: he could feel his face dug day after day, making him a ghost of who he had been; he could see the bones under his skin, more angular than ever. Despite the poor food, when he was at the front he was healthier. Even at the time he was in a cage, but it was a larger prison.

He hadn’t much to do, except to sleep or read a few tomes that he could hardly understand, yet for a few days he had been seized by unbearable fatigue. Perhaps he was ill, even if he couldn’t understand how. Perhaps they were slowly poisoning him. Perhaps he was becoming paranoid. And yet, at the dawn of the thirty-fifth day, he turned away the breakfast plate without even touching it, despite the sugary cereals, the fruit and toast tempted him.

"Finished," he announced, speaking for the first time in thirty-two days. His voice’s sound was strange, not the same with which he articulated his thoughts and not even what he remembered from his dreams; it looked like a child's, ridiculous and flickering. He felt pathetic, but it had to be just what Maven wanted, so he threw away the thought.

One of his jailers, two women had come over that turn, took the tray, looking at the untouched meal in disarray. It was the first emotion he saw on someone's face and it almost moved him, as well as investing him with a wave of pride: he wasn’t going crazy; Maven was really trying to poison him.

When the door opened, Thomas looked up immediately, hoping to see at least a glimpse of the antechamber outside the room. It was empty, as always, and his heart tightened: no one had gone to save him that day either. Perhaps he had finished his chances of salvation, perhaps that imprisonment was what he deserved, or perhaps he had to try to save himself. But how? He glanced out the window. The only way to escape the guards was to jump, but from such a height, it meant certain death. The familiar, yet wrong, shot of the lock distracted him from his mental wanderings. It was unscheduled and it interrupted a routine that was now law for him. On hearing that noise, he suddenly turned his head, just like his jailer, who lost their concentration in surprise. The adrenaline rushed through his veins and he jumped out of bed, uncaring to be wearing one of the pajamas Maven made available to him. If Farley, Kilorn or Rasha had seen him wearing silk, they would’ve make fun of him for until the end of his days but it would’ve been a torture that he would’ve been more than happy to endure: it would’ve meant that he still had days to live in his friends’ company. But it wasn’t them who entered his field of vision but an anonymous guard, wearing the Samos’ colors, who was escorting a young man who was anything but anonymous and whom Thomas had learned to recognize.

Ptolemus Samos’ black eyes peered at him from head to toe and returned with the tenderness of a whip. He threw the same look at Tristan before killing him in that Summerton’s cell. Who knows what they had done with his body. Probably the same thing that they had done to Ann’s. Surely nothing that was worth saying to Rasha. Without a doubt something very different from what would happen to his. Because if Ptolemus Samos was in his room, it could only mean that he had come to kill him.

"You don’t have permission to stay here." said the cat-faced woman, now standing between Ptolemus and Thomas. The newblood was stunned by her audacity: no one stood between Ptolemus Samos and his prey, the demonstration was the way he had shaken off his own sister and the prince that damn day at Summerton.

Ptolemus didn’t even look at her, and the guard took her away coldly. He crossed House Samos first-born’s gaze and Thomas prayed that he would read the hatred he felt for him.

"Wear something acceptable, the king demands your presence." he said, loading every word with contempt. Suddenly, thirty-five days of imprisonment seemed too few. A part of him would’ve wanted to oppose, but even the isolation hadn’t affected his survival instinct: any move was an extra possibility to escape. Therefore, he opened the wardrobe and looked at the clothes that Maven had left him: they were all well-made, probably old garments that had belonged to him in the past. Only when he recognized a military suit he realized how wrong he was: they weren’t his clothes, they were Cal’s.

Maven sat on a throne of Silent Stone. It was slowly wasting him, but at least he was certain that his mother's hand wasn’t in his thoughts; it had been more than a month since her death, yet he was still terrified that something had remained in his mind. He was sure he wasn’t crazy, that he had heard her whispers well after Elara had taken her last breath. Therefore, he had built that hurried in a hurry, no gems or precious metals to embellish it: it had to do his duty and until that day, it had done it very well, but something seemed to break when he caught Thomas’ gaze. An abyss of distractions, full of noise and elegant confusion, separated them, but the room could’ve been very empty. He shouldn’t have been there. He should’ve been in his room, dying slowly, away from his eyes. But not from your heart, whispered his mother’s familiar voice. For once, he agreed with her of his own free will: Thomas could never be away from his heart.

Slowly, he also recognized Mare. She still wore the collar and the white shirt and a sentinel Arven kept her on a leash. Thomas too noticed her and turned, showing him his pronounced cheekbones. Captivity had physically tried him but it hadn’t bent his spirit; when he met his gaze again, in his eyes he read a silent reproach. He twisted his hands, uncomfortable. What was he doing there?

"I demand an explanation!" he snapped, leaping to his feet, but being careful to keep his grip firmly on the throne’s high arms. The anger’s explosion made the music stop, just what he would’ve preferred to avoid, although it was just what he had agreed with Evangeline, and with it the dance, shifting his guests’ attention to the scene.

"You gave orders that the terrorists were imprisoned, locked up as useless wine bottles, and after a month of council deliberations, there is still no agreement on what will happen to them." Evangeline answered. He didn’t read in her eyes the same fear he had felt in Templyn, but the same couldn’t be said of her brother. Ptolemus Samos was stiff and immobile, his hand clenched in a fist, as he shuttled between him and his sister with his eyes. But what could he do? She had deliberately disobeyed his orders but she was still Volo Samos’ daughter, his betrothed and future queen. He certainly couldn’t punish her, not when his position on the throne was still shaky. Of course, not doing it would’ve meant other cons... With Thomas so close, he couldn’t concentrate and he decided to postpone the decision later. For the moment, he would stick to the plan.

"The crimes they committed are many," Evangeline continued, "so much that they would deserve a dozen death sentences and a thousand life sentences each, according to our laws, as they have killed and mutilated hundreds of your subjects, including your parents."

At the deceased rulers’ mention, both prisoners shivered, but for different reasons: Mare had witnessed what had happened to his father, while Thomas had been the cause, along with him, of what happened to his mother. Only the thought of having burned her alive made him sick and at the same time filled him with a strange sense of lightness. Did the Reds feel like that when they managed to kill a Silver? Was that the feeling of getting rid of your oppressor?

"And you, who are not even part of my council, would like to talk about their punishments here, during a party?" Maven asked dryly, thanking the Silent Stone for preventing him from incinerating Evangeline instantly.

The girl ignored his modification of the script and went on anyway, shortening the distances between them.

"If the council still treats you like a child, I'm willing to do that!" she snapped, shortening the distances between them. It was obvious that it was all a fiction, a show performed on that stage because the court was there to assist and he had to end it before anyone noticed it.

"The Queenstrial has certainly highlighted the most skilled girl." he commented, taking her hand, repressing the disgust he felt toward her. Then he turned suddenly, just like an actor in the theater, addressing his uncle, accepting his interrogation. He felt sorry for Mare, he knew well what it felt like to have a whisper in his head, but she was a person who was willing to sacrifice for his own kingdom. Contrary to Thomas.

When Mare began to beg him, the newblood also began to do so. They must have become friends, after all.

"Maven, please, don’t let him!" he shouted, but his voice seemed to get lost in the hall echoes. He hadn’t used it for too long and now the silence so prolonged showed off its fruits.

He hadn’t enough strength to escape the Samos guard’s grip, nor to resist when Ptolemus grabbed him by the shoulders. Both held him there without too much difficulty, forcing him to be a passive observer of the terrible scene that ran before his eyes. He couldn’t decide who to watch, if Samson crushing Mare's throat, his big hand squeezing tightly above the metal collar, Mare herself, the personification of terror, which she called Maven in a last, desperate attempt to persuade him to change his mind, or the latter, who held one hand on the throne and with the other clutched Evangeline's. They were a couple of monsters, perfect for each other even in the lack of love they could mutually give each other. He met his gaze, his eyes blue like ice, so familiar and ruthless. Her eyes. Maven didn’t have the strength to bear his delusion and broke eye-contact. Then he turned, leaving him alone again with two silent jailers, wondering what would happen to Mare and how and why she was there, aware that no one would give him the answers he was looking for.