Suddenly in the midst of a Summer Festival--

[ulternnpc]

 

There's a distinct sound of waves, and bustling of people nearby.

In the coastal city of Turnbloom the sun is bright and warm, and the scent of the sea wafts through with the cool gentle breeze that makes the glittering pinwheels spin, and the leaves on the palm tree dance.

Today the streets are extra decorated with these cute, colorful and floral shaped pinwheels. It seemed the people who were out in the streets were dressed in colorful summer attire--either casual, or the more traditional yukata. It seemed like with the booths were set out for both food and games for festival of some kind that was currently underway.

Just how did you get here, and why? A mystery, and it seemed the people in the streets didn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary as they go about enjoying their time out on this bright sunny day.

---

(🌺Please don't forget to check out the OOC post for those who haven't yet!🌺)

Comments

[giratina]

[Volo's tease earns a low rumble and a huff. He is not the only person (or, well, pokemon) to rib Tina for going soft... and knowing it's true wounds his pride a little. Who knew behaving well was going to be so cringe?

The dragon is less immediately forthcoming on the questions, though. Volo is not really asking for his exact location since their last meeting: the meaning behind his inquiry is obvious enough.

Giratina gazes opaquely at his Wielder. This is more difficult than he expected. Must he admit to callous abandonment so bluntly?]

...It has been... some time.

["Guilt" is not an emotion Giratina is used to. Still, the Volo in front of him looks young. He is certainly not dead, in any case. Perhaps Giratina is to see this strange happenstance as a chance at redemption.]

In the aftermath I could not be at your side. I am sure you understand that much.

[mythvology]

[ So cringe! Volo would be petty and judge him more if he could get over his own butthurt feelings first.

He also thinks this would be easier; that he'd already let go of Giratina but the more he stands before him the Pokemon the more all those feelings of comradery rush back; the exciting discovery he made of Giratina's neglected statue, how much he related to his banishment and suffering, feeling like he was the only person in the world who understood, the thrill of wielding raw power and antimatter—together. He crosses his arms, refrains from outright pouting or sulking. ]

Sure. Yeah. I understand. [ He's so bitter. ] If I couldn't do it then no one can.

[ NO ONE EVER TRIED THAT AGAIN, RIGHT. ]

[giratina]

[Oh.... he's sulking. Giratina has never been in the business of comforting someone before, let alone when it was his fault in the first place, so the pause in the conversation is palpably awkward.

--Oh, but wait. Now that they're here....]

Though... [The draconic stare becomes harder somehow.] I am curious to know.

When you suggested the Beloved Child's professor add me to their blasted encyclopedia... was that out of respect, or spite?

[The kid totally fucking came and walloped him again :/]

[mythvology]

[ Whatever sulking he was doing quirks into a forced smirk. It still manages to look petulant, lacks all the bite of any real spite despite his best efforts. ]

Despite what you did [ that was— turn tail and run. ]

I thought it'd be better ode than a crumbling statue.

[ He shrugs, now having to put less effort in masking his usual smarmy attitude. ]

I do hope it was a fitting likeness they captured of you.

[giratina]

[Giratina huffs grouchily but doesn't complain any further, opting to once more avert his gaze. The creature again makes no immediate reply.

Volo's expression and tone cloak it a bit, but.. that gesture counts as some genuine kindness, doesn't it? Or maybe it's more his insatiable thirst for runes, for discovery of the ancient, that drove him to finally share such findings with someone.]

...Even so.

[Giratina can do this too, he thinks. He can admit some reminiscent fondness easily construed as simple pride.]

Even so, you were— are— still my only wielder.