victory_road | It's time for the solstice!

Entry tags:

It's time for the solstice!

Who: Everyone attending the Azalea festival!

Where: Azalea town and surrounding woods

When: June 21st

Summary: Celebi's come out, so it's time to throw a party in its honor!

Log:

It's Midsummer! Traditional festivities in Azalea are all in full swing, and this year even bigger and better than ever, thanks to the influx of curious tourists and Legendary Seekers drawn by the rumors in hopes of catching a glimpse of the elusive Celebi. Everyone in Azalea is putting out their finest, and the whole town is decked out with flowers in vases and pots, colorful streamers, and bright awnings under which vendors hawk their wares.

The fun doesn't stop there, however. Those time disturbances that have been popping up all over the place? They've become at once more localized and more benign. Flowers open quickly and stay in bloom without fading, a blissful moment seems to stretch into eternity, somehow you've managed to sample the food of a dozen different booths and it still is barely mid-morning. It's like a perfect moment somehow drawn out, suspended in time to savor as long as possible. Those who have a particularly fun few minutes may even find them repeated a few times!

Which perhaps should be no surprise, given that Celebi itself has come out to play! If you're lucky and paying close attention, you might even catch a glimpse of it flitting about from one place to another throughout the town and the nearby forest. It certainly isn't shy, though it is moving quite quickly and doing anything but staying in one place. Anybody who might attempt to catch or challenge it to a battle isn’t going to get anywhere at all—and stubborn trainers might find themselves stuck in a time loop for a few hours. There's simply so much to see and do, after all! Strangely enough, if any of the Legend Seekers are around, Celebi never seems to be anywhere to be found.

Eventually, though, the long day will come to an end, and the festivities with it. By morning, all the hubbub will be gone, and Celebi with it. But not quite without a trace: anyone who came to Azalea Town to participate in the festival will find in their belongings a single fossil as a parting gift from the Time Travel Pokémon.

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Heck yes carnival games! Krieg's found the stand that rewards you for knocking down a tower of milk bottles with a baseball. He'd prefer a "hit the target with a gun" kind of game, but as those don't seem to exist here, throwing balls at bottles will have to do.

And it does; he's got darn good aim and coordination for a guy with poor depth perception, and it's not long before he finds himself rewarded with a Slowpoke plush toy...Which he then promptly offers to you. Yes, you.

"Here."

What, does he look like the kind of guy who collects plush toys? It's a gift. You're welcome.

Walter had gone over to say hello when a Slowpoke plush was pressed into his hands. He promptly bluee-screened, trying to understand that he was being given a soft Slowpoke for no apaprent reason from Krieg of all people. But, he still didn't know how to refuse anything given to him.

"...thank you." Doll giggled beside him as he tucked the slowpoke under his arm. "I came to say hello."

Oh, hey, it's the Church Cult Guy...Walter? Walter. It's been some time since Krieg's heard from him, and now here he is, in person, saying hello. It takes Krieg a moment to process this, so he stares unnervingly for a moment or two before replying,

"Hello!"

And then adding, after another moment or so of thought: "Having fun?"

His staring wasn't too off-putting. He had meant to stay in touch but well...events had come up and he had been distracted with other events. Walter actually reflected on Krieg's question before answering. "I think I am. Are you?"

"Pfff! Yeah! But there's nothing good for breaking the bottles!" He gestures with one hand at the booth beside them - ignoring the somewhat harassed-looking attendant - and then to the Slowpoke plush tucked under Walter's arm. "You can't invite the pain screams with a soft toy."

Guns and equipment are the only appropriate prizes for such a carnival game, as far as Krieg is concerned. He'll probably always think that, no matter how long he lives here.

Pain screams from bottles. He looked back at the bottles. "They do not let your Pokemon smash them?" Even if there wasn't a shooting range, it seemed strange that they wouldn't have an event like that. But this was coming from a man who trained his Pokemon with a dedication bordering on religious.

"They gave you this for...what is the purpose of this, if not to break the bottles?" Explain carnival games to this man. He saw some games at the O-bon festival but hadn't taken part in any, except when coaxed by Ralph. He still hadn't understood by the end of that experience.

"It's a test of skill! The reward for good aim is a soft pink friend, but I already have one that shrieks so I don't need another one that's quiet." He shrugs. "Breaking stuff is fun."

"You have a screaming Slowpoke?" He hadn't realised Krieg had caught some new friends. He gave the Slowpoke to Doll...who promptly began to tear it up, following the stitching so she could repurpose the fabric. Walter didn't need a Slowpoke plushie Krieg, she was right here! Woops.

Walter paused, watching her. "...it seems Doll agrees with you."

"No, it's a screaming bunny. It hatched from an egg!" And at number six, the Whismur is the final addition to his roster.

He follows the path of the Slowpoke plush with his gaze from Walter's hand to the Banette's claws, and tilts his head curiously when Doll begins ripping it up.

"What's it gonna do?"

The answer was decorate herself with the tattered remains of her rival. Taking the pink cloth, she wrapped it over her hands like a pair of gloves, stabbing it into place with several of the pins she kept in her body. She tore her claws through, creating a very stylish pair of fingerless gloves from the Slowpoke. She cackled and showed them to Krieg explictly, waggling her claws.

"In a sense, a Banette is a plush toy. But I had never owned another plush before." He had checked the Pokedex info on her, long ago when she had first evolved. So her behaviour didn't seem too mysterious to him.

He watches the Banette clothe herself with interest, completely unperturbed by her method for keeping the fabric on, and chortles quietly when she waggles her plushie-bedecked claws at him.

"Looks good!"

What a fashionable monster! He shifts his gaze back to Walter, curious as always to find out more about a new Pokemon.

"Where's it from?"

Not that he's going to run out and catch one, although he does like the look of her. He's got his six and is more than content with them.

"She was the first Pokemon to join me. She was a Shuppet, during the O-bon Festival." It seemed...strangely long ago now. And he hadn't 'captured' her; she had simply decided to follow him. Doll giggled and floated up to Walter's shoulder, hanging off him like a cat. She winked to Krieg though. Oh she knew she looked fab. Way better than some dumb Slowpoke plushie.

"What is a scream bunny?" He wanted to know about this new Pokemon of Krieg's too. On a hunch, he added, "Did it hatch from the eggs given by God?"

He grins under his mask when Doll winks at him, and winks back. It's sort of a hidden gesture, what with only one of his eyes being visible and all, but she'll probably get what he means. She seems like the type.

"Yeah, after the Rocket Ball! It's the Whisper Bunny!"

Way to be contradictory there, Krieg. But, turning his attention back to Walter, he retrieves Whisper Bunny's Pokéball from his belt and releases the catch to let her out. She appears at his feet, ears tucked as usual and as calm and relaxed as she ever is, murmuring softly to herself. When she looks up and sees Walter and Doll, her murmurs increase in volume just a tiny bit as she greets them, before subsiding to their previous soft levels.

"It only shrieks when it's scared."

"Ah!" Armin fumbles a little accepting the expected gift --he had just come over to greet Krieg, not to be showered in stuffed animals-- holding it a little awkwardly. "Thank you, but... isn't this sort of thing more Angel's style?"

"Already got her one!" As long as the guy at the stand keeps accepting his money in exchange for allowing him to hurl projectiles at bottles, Krieg is going to keep playing. "I just wanna break the glass! I don't need the toys."

Honesty, the poor carnival attendant looks a little too intimidated by Krieg to stop taking his money.

Armin tucks the slowpoke more firmly in his arms, accepting his fate. Maybe Historia would like it. Or one of the many small children that swarmed this carnival. "You're pretty good at this. Don't these sort of things have a reputation for being rigged?"

It's a little enviable. Armin hasn't got an arm for throwing at all.

Look, the attendant's intimidation level is hardly Krieg's fault! He's being very personable and polite and reasonable and stuff! Angel would be proud!

"I dunno?"

That sounds familiar, though, like something he'd heard a long, long time ago. As far as memories go, this particular nugget of recollection feels extremely benign, so he allows it to meander about inside his headspace for a few moments as he reaches for another ball. He tosses it experimentally into the air a couple of times, squints at the stacked bottles, and throws. He puts his entire body into the motion, applying an enormously unnecessary amount of force. His buzz axe becomes a blur when he flings it; a ball as small as the one provided for this game doesn't even register. The only reason the bottles don't shatter on impact is because the attendant (very prudently) began switching out the glass ones with plastic when Krieg paid him for a second game. Even so, the poor guy flinches at the impact and the bottles go flying.

"Do they?"

This question is addressed to the attendant, who flushes and sputters and manages to come across as both indignant and intimidated without ever actually outright confirming or denying anything. Krieg isn't actually hugely interested or invested in the response, so he simply turns back to Armin with a shrug. "Does it matter?"

Armin jumps when Krieg lets the ball fly. The noise of the impact is like cannon fire, and geez, he was expecting Krieg to be strong, but at this level, he could possibly even arm-wrestle Mikasa and win.

Maybe.

Sometimes it was better not to know.

In any case, it is no wonder the attendant looks ready to soil himself.

"Not the way you throw." At this point, that attendant could be rigging the bottle with solid cement in the bottoms and Armin is still certain Krieg could knock them all over. "I'm surprised that you know this game though. Do they have this on Pandora as well?"

It doesn't exactly sound like a planet full of carnival games.

Carnival games? ...Nah. "Just the slots and the Slaughter Dome." He shrugs. "On Pandora I'd throw my axe and it would come back and I would throw it again!" His volume and the growl in his voice both increase as he explains, before he remembers that this isn't the time or place for yelling (Janey had been very firm about such things), and also he kind of thinks that if he yells loud enough Blondie might blow away with the force of his shout, or faint dead away, or maybe wet himself, and while that last one would be kind of funny, Krieg also doesn't want to have to explain to Angel why her friend blew away or fainted or wet himself, so.

He takes a deep breath as he reins himself in and lets it out in a huff, releasing the energy he'd begun to build.

"If you can throw an axe you can throw a ball."

That makes sense, right? Of course it does.

Armin appreciates Krieg's care towards not making him blow away or faint or pee himself. Though he'd be a little affronted to know Krieg saw him like that,

(It is absolutely true, but still. Affronted)

Armin shakes his head a little at Krieg's explanation. He could use an axe to chop wood (awkwardly, and with much less finesse than Mikasa), but throw one? "I don't really think I can do either."

Their training had aimed at strengthening their legs to use the gear and their arms and shoulders to wield their blades. Not so much at throwing. Throwing a blade at a titan was meaningless.

Sorry, Armin, Krieg's just going to take an awkward moment or so to stare in disbelief. Can't throw a ball?

"Why not? Your arms aren't broken."

He picks up the last ball from this latest game, and holds it out to Armin. "You fight giant monsters, right?"

Well, obviously, he can throw a ball. Just not hit anything.

Armin stares a little awkwardly as Krieg holds out the ball, finally accepting it. One (1) ball added to inventory!

"I mean, we don't exactly throw anything at them. We cut them with our blades." His voices drops a little, more to a mumble. "And I wasn't good at that either."

He had passed his test, yes, but barely. Very very barely.

"You don't gotta be good, just good enough. You're not dead, are you?"

Well. Krieg assumes, anyway. Maybe he's sticking his foot in his mouth and just doesn't know it yet. Though for all the progress he's made in the past months of learning how to people, he's not quite to the point where making an inadvertent social faux pas would bother him.

...And he might never reach that point, honestly.

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It's time for the solstice!

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