ANOMALY DETECTED

[indigo_league]

Who: ANYONE AND EVERYONE
Where: ANYWHERE AND EVERYWHERE
When: NOV 25TH to 27TH
Summary: GET IN HERE AND MINGLE
Rating: BUT PLEASE MARK YOUR THREAD CONTENT ACCORDINGLY
Log:






Need a reminder of our Fourth Wall Rules or what is going on this weekend? Want to check what locations have been made available? Find all your answers here!

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3. Tablet of Stars

[desirestruth]

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.

[silverstorm]

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.

[desirestruth]

"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."

[silverstorm]

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.

[desirestruth]

"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.

[silverstorm]

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.

[desirestruth]

"...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."