victory_road | ANOMALY DETECTED

..:: I - Pirate City of Leviathan - Compass points library ::..
Cinders is not happy with this place.

Her little nose twitches and her brown eyes balefully regards the high shelves along the crooked libraries, dove-grey fur standing on ends. She chitters a high and lengthy strings of angry noises, and Cadeyrn can't help but agree below her, handy swanna-featherduster in hand, a white handkerchief tied over his nose but under thunder-dark eyes to keep the dust from clogging in his lungs.

They proceed well as a pair, well used to the tandem of work shared, and as Cinders sweeps her long, feathery tail across the higher, unreachable areas, Cadeyrn is in turn shifting a tall ladder just underneath her, dusting off the ancient tomes of treasures and maps long-found.

There's a sharp, angry snarl from above him, and Cadeyrn shifts to the side automatically, calling out below him a "heads up!" as his little minccino forces a broken, derelict tiny replica of a ship down, uncaring of who it might land up on. Her huffing and snarling, gritted teeth can be heard all the way below, just before the ship smashes and breaks.

Hopefully that didn't hurt anybody.

..:: II - Grandcypher - Cafe Millenia ::..
Cadeyrn rarely feels at peace with himself without the amenities that surround him. Clean, fresh surfaces. A window just cracked open to invite the fresh air in. His starter's long, slender frame tucked in between the pots of leafy green plants curling widespread leaves closer to the enchanting sunlight that makes its way inside. It's a peaceful surrounding.

Pots, pans and sieves surround him, along with fluffy white pokemons crowding his little work nook. Alcremies chirp delightedly at the work that he pours into the little bakeries, macarons and sweet creams combining to make little pokemon faces, from delightful brown bunearies to the pink jigglypuffs. While the dragalge chocolate croissants are cooling off on a plate, palm-sized litwick cakes with abundant frosting and rawstberry-flames have been set to chill in a corner, underneath the watchful garnet eyes of his serperior.

Any intruder stops all movement within the kitchen, all eyes turned to them as Cadeyrn observes them with a sharp silver gaze. A beat passes in uncomfortable silence, before a little cottonee swoons a cheerful little noise as it picks up a treat with a gentle vine, and offers it to the stranger. Cadeyrn's eyes narrow a tad, but he nods.

"Enjoy it," he invites, and turns back to the plethora of cakes and fondants that require his attentions.

..:: III - Budehuc Castle - Tablet of stars ::..
"Don't."

The stern voice is directed at a curious rockruff, sniffing about and coming too close. Behind Cadeyrn, pinned between him and the Tablet Of Stars, a long black tail with a star point taps at the grounds in its nerves, Cimmerian's piercing gold-and-red stare fixed to the little wildling until it takes the hint. The luxray's crackling fur smooths when the little dog takes that as a hint to scamper, and it turns its eyes to the next nearest threat, tension not quite gone from its limbs. It huffs through bellow-deep lungs when the person approaches.

Cadeyrn lays a hand in its mane, gently petting the tense pokemon, but doesn't direct the person away, simply raising a pitch-black eyebrow at them over knife-sharp silver eyes.

"Are you here for the view?" His voice is devoid of much emotion, but not unwelcoming, just seeing what the person is loitering around for. "Or are you here for the pokemon?"

Cimmerian's rumbling growl deepens at that, tail once more lashing at the stone. Even Cadeyrn's hand goes still in his long, night-black mane, but he doesn't glance away from the intruder.

Kimmuriel is fond of libraries, but not very fond of people. It is only blind chance that brings him in contact with what appear to be a pair who are extremely intent on cleaning, though if they are only equipped with what he can see, he is certain they will spend the whole day with little to show for it.

But that is not his concern. What is his concern is the commotion from above that sends a broken replica plummeting almost on top of him as he walks by. He supposes he could simply turn intangible to avoid it, but that is more effort than exercising one of his more minor powers.

It falls, and then stops abruptly without ever striking him. It simply hovers in the air, arrested by invisible force.

"Is this normal behaviour?" Kimmuriel says, slightly acerbic. "Or am I a fortunate recipient of some uncharacteristic unruliness?"

Edited 2022-11-25 23:36 (UTC)

Silver eyes narrow as Cadeyrn braces against the ladder, and lets himself slip down along its length. He lands with a light thud, dustcoated, and far grimier than he'd like on first introductions, but he thinks he can be spared this once-- the library is far too vast, and the topmost shelves had clearly been abandoned for a few years at the very least.

The handkerchief is tugged off, leaving his face free to be seen, and with a snap, he throws as much dust as he can away from it, and carefully brushes what he can of his hand clean. Small lines can be spotted at the base of his fingers, ringmarks here and there, as he stretches his hand out in a relatively casual greeting. There's a lipring caught between two teeth, adding to the sharpness to his smile as he replies.

"You are certainly the unfortunate recipient of some very characteristic behavior, I'm afraid." Amusement dances in the silver of his gaze, before he adds. "Cinders does not like broken things taking empty spaces. Or dust. Or dirt. She was bound to be in a foul mood." Now, whether she had aimed for anyone or not, that was another question.

"Can I help you find anything of importance?" he wonders, not really as an apology, but simply because the other man's sharp tongue amuses him. It is a training of another sort, which Cadeyrn is always eager to test himself against.

"Nothing in particular," he says, waving a hand dismissively. "I doubt I will retain the information well after these few days, and this is not a place I recognise regardless." He is all for curiosity, but he would rather not waste the effort if his memories are to be all muddled up again afterwards.

"She is compelled to clean even in a space that is not her own? That is an unusual behaviour you are encouraging." Perhaps even dangerous in the wrong places, but that is none of his business, is it...

Naeva turns, after a moment, the starlight catching her reflective eyes and making them gleam in even slight darkness. Her eyes fall first on Cimmerian--hush, brave one, I am not your enemy--for truly beastial speech is, as she told Riz some time ago, more in body language and intent than it is in the words said aloud. But then her eyes raise back up to look at Cadeyrn, and in her bristling at the surprise of suddenly being in this place and Cimmerian's growl, her bearing is regal, stiff and proud.

"I don't believe I am here for either, as I opened the door somewhere else."

Her tone, too, is flat and devoid of inflection. She is more concerned about the Luxray then his trainer, right now, as Remy, poor terrified Riolu, stands in front of her legs, trembling but ready to defend! A foolish sort of bravery, but a genuine one.

Cimmerian's tail goes still in his surprise, the growl weakening, then dying in his lungs, ears still pinned back.The acrid taste of fear taints the air, the narrowness of suspicion. But he does not lash out, or grow more aggressive. The luxray's gaze never turns away, never dips from the strangers in its vicinity, poignant in its sharpness. But his breathing comes easier, and he rolls a soft sound in his throat, akin to a bird's cooing. Cadeyrn glances at him lightly, but breathes out slowly, and his hand gently scritches at his jawline, still lost in the thick mane almost down this his elbow.

By his side, his trainer gently removes his hand from the mane, cards his fingers smoothly through it one last time, before he murmurs something only for his pokemon to hear. It's a soft and delicate parting, and Cimmerian is returned to his small home, quietly dispelling whatever tensions he had left in his wake.

"You've handled him quite well." Silver eyes turn to meet Naeva's own golden ones, fearless, just as she is. The pokeball is still in his hands, but cradled softly in both palms, thumbs rubbing against the smooth black surface. "Cimmerian doesn't like strangers." It's why he'd allowed his pokemon out only here, in the far wilderness of the cliffs, and the last golden rays of the afternoon sun slowly coming to shimmer over the horizon.

"What's your name?" She's... well, not impressed him, per say, but he does extend the courtesy to her. He'll bear her name to mind.

"Naeva dos Martos y Margelidon."

It takes her a long moment to bite back the titles; her irritation is starting to soothe as Cimmerian is calmed and returned to his ball--to see the trainer and pokemon share such trust does unbend her, somewhat--but she is still off-kilter, and in such a situation it is better, she feels, to pull royalty and dignity around her as a cloak to her unease. A threat display is the first thing any vulnerable cub ever learns, and these lessons stick, even into adulthood. Still, she is reminded, she holds no dominion here...Dignity, then, comes before royalty.

"...He is protective of you, it seemed."

Edited (doop doop) 2022-11-26 17:38 (UTC)

Cadeyrn doesn't correct her on this.

"So is yours," he adds instead, silver gaze darting down to the little riolu in front of her. "Riolus are not known to give their loyalty lightly."

With the tension of Cimmerian's presence slowly smoothing away with him being gone, it makes it just a tad easier for Cadeyrn as well to evaluate the person standing across from him, from her golden eyes, to the proud rise of her chin. Monochrome clad in clothes ill-suited for the rocky environment around them, she had mentioned stepping out through nothingness, the way Cadeyrn himself had found himself here as well.

In many ways, they are not dissimilar. Cadeyrn's own grey waistcoat and loosened tie are a snag away from becoming a disaster, even though he's rolled his sleeves back to his elbows to avoid ripping them. He rises to his feet, and brushes the dirt away, Cimmerian's pokeball carefully slotted back to the chain that dangles from a beltloop.

"Is he your starter?" It's a mild prod for information at best; a gentle steering of their conversation. Neither of them seem to have gotten here with any purpose in mind, and so rather than awkwardly staring at nothing and not really moving, he tries to guide them both into, if not companionable conversation, at least tolerant ones would suffice. And, warranted or not, Cadeyrn has rarely, rarely met anyone who was not entirely happy to gush about their companion pokémons.

"He is my starter, yes. A very young pokemon, I'm told."

She breaks eye contact finally, to kneel down and pick Remy up. He's less scared with the larger pokemon gone, but still unnerved, and Naeva knows the small pokemon likes to be held closer to eye level while people are talking. For that moment, then, her entire demeanor softens--she clearly cares deeply for her pokemon, and the feeling seems to be mutual, given how Remy nestles himself into her shoulder.

When she looks back up, the light catches her eyes again, and they gleam like any wolfs' eyes would in the dark. Slitted pupils and a slight lisp caused by her reappeared fangs are also more noticeable as the conversation goes on, but Naeva doesn't much care what conclusion other people come to--she's never hid what she is. She's only been otherwise these last few weeks, after all.

"What is your name?" He had not volunteered it but she's not about to let him out of an equal exchange, here.

Tensions are melting, snarls in their unfortunate meeting gently untangling into more comfortable levels. Cadeyrn notes that there is something not-quite-right about her, and his attention strays along against these details, gleaming eyes and fangs a little too long, a little too sharp. Is she wearing contacts? It would not be unusual, but he would not like to stand close enough to confirm it.

The young man allows little gaps in his defenses as well, willing to play along with her as long as they are caught up in this odd situation. He considers it briefly before a different pokeball is picked up, and lightly tapped against his opposite shoulder. The light gathers into a tiny shape, pear-shaped with an apple-head, topped with a ears each almost as wide as her little body. A tiny nose twitches, grey-furred and whiskered, before her wide, big brown eyes blink open, and the minccino chitters a little noise.

She's quick to slip around his neck, watching the stranger with the prettiest little eyes before she scurries yet again to his non-dominant shoulder. With her tail wrapped around his neck, Cinders presses her paws in her trainer's hair and starts nuzzling into it, ignoring the other two present. She seems quite content to simply stand there and groom him, even if his hair is immaculate. It brings to attention the few studs pierced through his earlobe.

"My name is Cadeyrn; Cadeyrn Blackthorn. And she is Cinders."

Cinders' little nose twitches when he introduces her, but she is not sparing the other two a glance. Not even when Cadeyrn reaches to scratch at her tummy.

"What's your field of work, or study?" he asks next, conversationally. He's getting too used to these kinds of discussions; impersonal, all while being strangely telling of the people around him.

"...A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Blackthorn, Ms. Cinders." Her nod to the pokemon is no less sincere than her nod to Caderyn. She does truly mean the greeting with all respect, even if Cinders is making her disinterest very clear. But her expression does falter at the question, and she goes quiet for a while, gently stroking down Remy's back as she thinks.

"Queen" is a born position, not a profession, but for those familiar with royalty it does well as a shorthand to explain the work required by the position. Diplomacy, logistics, administration and policy-making, as well as the unique amounts of forestry and witchcraft required to maintain the Black Forest...where does she begin? What can she say that doesn't stray into having to explain the mechanisms of her home back to the first tree planted, and the Night Mother's creation of her people? It's a bit much for an initial conversation. Creation myths are for at least a third meeting, especially when they were proven mostly true when the creator deity ambushed you at your wedding reception...

She's getting distracted.

After a longer moment of thought, Naeva huffs a faint laugh. An easier answer rests in her arms. "At present...being a mother quite disrupts any other job I might have."

"...Thanks."

The Whimsicott giving him the treat was certainly new. Definitely not a treat from the Lowain brothers, so this was certainly new. But that fact wasn't exactly bothering him. It was the fact that there was a stranger in his cafe working-- Without even getting paid proper!!

"Did you get permission from the owner to do this? This place is rather empty..." asked innocently, but there was a glint in his eye. there's no way he had his permission.

An easy shrug raises his shoulder, before dropping it, not entirely concerned with the small accusation on the tone. He's not sure why this person would care all that much.

"The ship was empty when I first stepped on it. I think these pokémons are the ones to take care of it, and they are happy enough to help." There is intent focus as he plucks macaron halves together, and aligns them carefully, before passing them to the baking sheet on his right. A milcery sweeps a droplet-palm to take one of the offered goodie, and the hard edges around Cadeyrn's eyes soften just a tad as he allows the little thief its snack. Soon enough, the sheet is complete, and the young man steps around to clean it immediately.

By his side, the serperior is rising to gaze haughtily at their guest, red-snagging eyes fixed solely on the intruder. She coils around the pots in an incredible length, twisting vines holding them carefully so that none get shifted, or disrupted in her movement. Cadeyrn pays her no mind.

"Are macarons not to your liking?" he asks instead, reaching for a dishcloth to finish his task, and soon, the baking sheet is replaced exactly where he'd found it, cleaned and ready to be used again. "We have a few selections. Feel free to try them."

[ sandalphon raised an eyebrow at that. Just because it was empty doesn’t mean you can use it any way you want. he got more than a little miffed at that. but whatever, the angel’s not going to hold it against the guy. … not yet, at least. he’ll wait until the stranger’s left, and then figure out what recipes he’s used. more cafe tricks, the better. ]

I suppose that’s fair enough. [ he’ll keep an eye on you, stranger. the angel glances around at all the pokemon, especially how the serperior glares him down– and he responds with a glare of his own, ruby red eyes flashing with power. to the angel, the serperior and everyone in right now are the intruders, not him.

he elects to move on when the macarons were mentioned. sandalphon looked at them for a moment, and nods. ] I’ll try a few. However, I’ll be preparing myself some coffee to enjoy them properly.

[ and without any further argument, sandalphon steps inside the cafe area, picks up a jar full of coffee beans, and gets to work. ]

"Nostalgia, apparently."

Geddoe's reply is as laconic as his tone and expression are apparently indifferent. Which isn't really at all how he feels about suddenly finding himself here, of all places, but he's always been the outwardly stoic type.

That said, his one good eye does give a curious glance at the Luxray. He can feel True Lightning's power in his gloved right hand again, and he's noticed during a prior weird weekend that sometimes electric types seem to pick up on that.

"What about you?"

Interesting. It implies that the person across from him knows what this place is. The answer seems to soothe the luxray, who does not lower his eyes, but the growl quietens to a murmur, before he goes silent. His trainer's hand starts moving anew in his mane, a gentle back-and-forth clearly designed to soothe a ruffled temper.

"Quiet. Solitude." His voice carries without trouble, each syllable neatly pronounced and clear in the quiet late afternoon's sun. "Cimmerian does not like strangers." Which means that Cimmerian is going to have to return to his home soon. While not quite aggressive anymore, there is little doubts that the electric pokémon is wary and Cadeyrn does not want to stress him out.

He scritches his blue lion's mane one last time before murmuring something softly into his pokémon's ear, gently pressing the pokeball against his luxray's paw. The ball swallows the monster, and Cadeyrn stands, stepping away from the tablet that he had used as a shelter so nothing could sneak up behind him. He watches the water over the far horizon instead, giving some space to the stranger if he so wants.

There's a beat of silence. The quiet rustle of the wind across the waves. The call of creatures, both big and small, hidden in the grasses and the rocks, the crags surrounding these imposing cliffs. Overhead, the sun is brilliant in its lateness, the sky a deep blue almost as profound as the sea itself, but far cheerier; and odd contrast to the solemnity of the stone slab overlooking the sea.

"Was it a ship that crashed?" Cadeyrn asks, not turning to see what the other man is up to.

Geddoe is fine with the quiet. The thought of simply turning and leaving does flit through his mind, but it's hard to tear himself away just yet. He does know this place, after all, and knows each and every one of those hundred and eight names currently inscribed in that stone tablet.

He knew the names it once held fifty years ago, too.

So instead of leaving, he takes a few steps forward, resting a hand atop the stone as he gazes down at the list of names. It's been nearly a year since he's seen any of them, and if he's being honest with himself, he misses them.

"The one at the castle?" Geddoe asks without looking up. "A storm blew it off course and it ran aground, and its crew abandoned it. The castle's master didn't have the funds to get it removed and the damaged parts of the castle rebuilt, so it's been there since."

Oh. It was that thing again. That thing where really weird and messed up stuff happens and then, presumably, life goes back to normal. Or at least what's considered normal for the world of pokemon.

Hermione's not too mad about it this time though. She had been in the Femblem Compound library and reaching for a book, only to find herself suddenly in another library reaching for a completely different book.

A yell from above makes her suddenly look up as she's showered with dust. Using instincts honed by Felix, she dives to one side as something crashes next to her.

"Do you mind? This is a library!" she says huffily, getting back up and dusting off her robes.

Wait. Why is she wearing her Griffindor robes?

ANOMALY DETECTED

Cadeyrn Blackthorn ♠ OC ♠ OTA

I. library

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3. Tablet of Stars

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cafe millennia

Re: cafe millennia

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1. Compass Point Library