upward movement [event #1]

[tamara]

the wind wraps me like the reaper's hand

the war has been raging for two years, and yet the wait is always the same. even with fuschia at stake -- fuschia, boure's only southern stronghold in kanto, strategically invaluable, defend it do not fail -- knowing that an attack will happen and yet waiting for it will forever grate on tamara's nerves. knowing that in a moment, the relative calm that has settled over the city could break into battle, a roar of adrenalin deafening the ears as pokemon pit themselves against pokemon, trainer against trainer. boure against zemina. it is odd, to have brought sinnoh's general to fuschia's defense, but not surprising; sinnoh is north of kanto, after all, and tamara and her people had only had to fly to reach the rendezvous point. nyx is at her feet, ears up and watching. skeiron is flying overhead, her eyes in the sky, along with any other scout-fliers that fuschia's northeastern defenders had sent out. charon is towards the rear, coordinating with some of the other psychics. the rest of her team are in their balls, miniaturized as they are in her pocket. fuschia is quiet, but it is always quiet just before the storm. tamara sets her hands in her pockets and waits, the heart of the city at her back, her people spread out alongside her -- pokemon at their side, great blastoise and venasaurs, onix and mamoswine, even a snorlax at the very back as the last wall of defense. the northeastern corner is entrenched with a large trench with spikes studded with sharpened stakes and stealth rocks. pit falls and traps, covered with digs and other camouflage material. there are even spikes, toxic and otherwise, spread out and waiting, just beyond fuschia's border and into the route, forest, and general out-of-town area. all the mark of people defending their homes. she has prepared them as best as she could, has put plans in place for the worst-case scenario, but she does not know if it will be enough. and that is the problem, isn't it? the calm before the storm. tamara settles in to wait. skell bouras

[skell bouras]

[attr="class","boneshatter1"]

[attr="class","boneshatter2"]

DRUGS SUCK IT UP VANILLA ICIES, DONT TREAT ME ROUGH --- TREAT ME REALLY NICEYS, WOAH, CMON CMON ---

[attr="class","boneshatter3"]bloody silph scope, bet you think you're the best of the best. that you can see anything and everything. i created you. same as the electron grenade and magnetized mines. if you see everything, silph scope, then i'm a fucking god.

my father's love was strong and unwavering. he'd look at me with carnivorous brown eyes and stoic smile and he'd teach me, teach me how to mess with the mind. i was a guinea pig. i was used and manipulated and manufactured-- and i remember, there were times were his words would make me scream and cry and kick my feet. but i learned, and then they would kick their feet, and they would cry. i can't say i enjoyed it at first. it was 'cruel.'

but cruelty was woven in strands of love and caring, i soon learned. when he would hit my stepmother, she would cry but she would smile. she understood. pain was love, love was pain.

there was a time where i grew tired of hiding in my closet, hiding under my bed. i'd hide from him physically because his abuse felt physical. i'd hide from him because i was a coward. but he would always find my thoughts. his words were always in my head. it never stopped, because my brain never stopped with its "what if"s.

he knew how my brain worked, he was my father. but then again, he knew how everyone's brain worked because he was a devil. that man, he used to tuck me in on summer nights, but he'd pull the blankets up so high my toes would wiggle out, and he'd leave me just like that, struggling to pull the heavy comforter into the right place, my toes and feet cold as ice.

he created and he destroyed. he built up, and he tore down. he loved and he despised. he cared. and he didn't.

my father was something holy and something evil, and he got bored. he settled. and therefore, he was nothing anymore. i did him a favor.

i dismantled him, bloody silph scope, and i can do the same for you too.

---

they're cemented to her eyes. dark lenses and heavy material, but her head has grown used to the weight and her weapons are extensions of her body. scratch that- her body is the extension to her weapons.

orcus and melinoe stand behind her, two colossal giants, backing up a lone woman. she commands them to take their positions. orcus, the golurk, stands strong and tall, his iron defense glimmering. and melinoe, the killing machine hydreigon snarls and growls and barks, hungering for destruction.

skell scans the arena with her silph scope and sees thanatos, darting amongst the trees, invisible to the naked eye. he won't assist them until later. for now, he is scouting and scouting only.

there is a woman defending the border, he tells her. skell readies herself, and produces a knife from her belt, scratching a large "x" onto a tree trunk. this is where she enters, this is where she will exit.

and this is where she will bury the bodies.

tamara

deltra of gangnam style

[newclass=.boneshatter1]background-color:#151515;width:495px;height:495px;color:#bbbbbb;font-size:10px;text-align:justify;overflow:hidden;[/newclass]
[newclass=.boneshatter3]width:447px;padding-right:3px;height:337px;margin-top:15px;margin-left:25px;overflow:auto;border:solid 2px #151515;[/newclass]
[newclass=.boneshatter3::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb:vertical]background-color:#4987E8;border:solid 2px #151515;border-radius:7px;[/newclass]
[newclass=.boneshatter3::-webkit-scrollbar]background-color:#eeeeee;width:11px;border:solid 5px #151515;[/newclass]
[newclass=.boneshatter2]margin-top:0px;position:relative;z-index:1;-webkit-transition-duration:.4s;transition-duration:.4s;-moz-transition-duration:.4s;[/newclass]
[newclass=.boneshatter2:hover]margin-top:-380px;-webkit-transition-duration:.4s;transition-duration:.4s;-moz-transition-duration:.4s;[/newclass]

[tamara]

the wind wraps me like the reaper's hand

each passing moment makes her more and more uneasy. it is a moment in which their enemy could have attacked, and didn't, and tamara runs through plans and tactics and strategies in her mind. they've always come easily to her, had surprised even herself when she'd first taken up a leadership role. it's easy for her to imagine what will happen when this does that. it's something quite remarkable for a daughter of a flourist and a gardener, actually. who would've thought that simple little eleanor tamara from simple little floaroma town could become something so grand. they are here, charon whispers into her mind, hers and the entirety of the defendents' with the aid of the other psychics in his small communications unit. tamara doesn't move as nyx straightens and skeiron flicks his wings and armor into an autotomize. somewhere, charon sends them all a tailwind. preparations, preparations. a half-ghost, and -- her xatu falters, and an alakazam's voice replaces him. there is a hydreigon also, with a lone woman, from what the scouts can see. ghosts and dragons. tamara clenches her hands in her pockets, and relaxes them. they can do this. they have prepared, and even if some of their defensive measures will be useless against a dragon, she knows that they will have this in hand. they will need to have this in hand. at the very least, any scout they send out will have a difficult time finding a way in. tamara is one of the best at countering invasions for a reason, even if she is not performing a last-minute reinforcement attempt. or rather, because she is not running into a situation blindly. still, it does not mean that their line cannot be infiltrated, and she worries over that fact briefly before boxing the emotion and putting it away. a woman, a half-ghost, and a dragon. she thinks, then contemplates, then finally decides. have the trainers with the pokemon throw up a thorn wall reinforced by stone edges, she says, and watches as the walls go up, six, seven, eight feet high. there is still tension, but now they continue the waiting game with heightened nerves and bated breath. tamara watches for any sign of their company. skell bouras

[skell bouras]

[attr="class","boneshatter1"]

[attr="class","boneshatter2"]

DRUGS SUCK IT UP VANILLA ICIES, DONT TREAT ME ROUGH --- TREAT ME REALLY NICEYS, WOAH, CMON CMON ---

[attr="class","boneshatter3"]they've tried to build walls around us for as long as i can remember. they always came after us, my family and i. my arsenal and i. tried to rid themselves of us, but we always hit harder. a thousand times harder, and we'd watch from afar as their lives burned.

father taught me to avenge. experience taught me to forget. so i do both.

---

skell does get uneasy, she is human. she feels fear, but it is exhilarating and it pushes her onwards. skell knows- fear can cause a person to go to great heights. and she has learned to manipulate fear. she will go to any lengths to slash and burn and murder fear. and she will do the same to the subjects of her fear. it's the only way to continue- the only way to not be afraid anymore.

she sees the brush and ground shaking far off, and suddenly walls burst upwards. a barrier is placed in front of her, with sharp stones spiking out, jagged. someone has built a wall.

she does not fear walls. when someone gives you a wall, you tear it down. it is only a moment before menoetes, the gourgeist, is on the scene, it's candlelight flickering stronger and stronger.

menoetes attacks the wall violently with a flamethrower, singing and burning it to the ground. and in the heat, in the red light, skell and her monsters smile. it reminds her of the firepit in her backyard as a child. they would roast marshmallows. (now they roast dreams.)

from the ashes emerges skell, now with clear view of her enemy. her silph scope magnifies, and she is left with the picture of a young woman. beautiful. she almost wants to find another way in-- but there's no time for that now. and so orcus, whilst stomping an earthquake at the umbreon, uses its iron defense once again to prepare itself further.

melinoe shrieks, her hyper voice painful and excruciating to any who hear it. skell shudders from the mere volume, but her station from behind the hydreigon is not greatly affected. menoetes sits next to her, but slyly spews a leech seed towards the skarmory, hoping to drain energy.

---

my father did not teach me to fight. i taught myself. call it practice, or call me a natural, but my strategy with pokemon has always been admired by my subordinates in saffron.

he didn't understand the potential of pokemon. he didn't see what they could do for him. and therefore i felt connected to pokemon from the start- we were similar. i understood my father's pokemon's struggles. he had a venusaur that i loved dearly. he didn't deem either of us useful.

as i grew older my mind would wander. maybe it wasn't that he didn't find us useful. maybe he wanted the glory of victory all to himself. maybe he was too prideful to desire any sort of assistance. or worse, perhaps he was afraid of the pokemon. or me. i wouldn't know why...we just wanted to help him.

i just wanted to help him, i just wanted him to give me a chance, it wasn't too much to ask. i never asked too much of him. he never asked anything of me.

but i constructed my own goals, my own dreams. i thought them up by myself. it was my pokemon and i and everyone else was below. yes, i constructed my own future, and my father wasn't in it.

---

skell frowned.

tamara

deltra of gangnam style

[newclass=.boneshatter1]background-color:#151515;width:495px;height:495px;color:#bbbbbb;font-size:10px;text-align:justify;overflow:hidden;[/newclass]
[newclass=.boneshatter3]width:447px;padding-right:3px;height:337px;margin-top:15px;margin-left:25px;overflow:auto;border:solid 2px #151515;[/newclass]
[newclass=.boneshatter3::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb:vertical]background-color:#4987E8;border:solid 2px #151515;border-radius:7px;[/newclass]
[newclass=.boneshatter3::-webkit-scrollbar]background-color:#eeeeee;width:11px;border:solid 5px #151515;[/newclass]
[newclass=.boneshatter2]margin-top:0px;position:relative;z-index:1;-webkit-transition-duration:.4s;transition-duration:.4s;-moz-transition-duration:.4s;[/newclass]
[newclass=.boneshatter2:hover]margin-top:-380px;-webkit-transition-duration:.4s;transition-duration:.4s;-moz-transition-duration:.4s;[/newclass]

[tamara]

the wind wraps me like the reaper's hand

a breath, two, three. in. out. the walls go down in flames, and tamara has to narrow her eyes against the sudden glare. she and her umbreon are the first and foremost line against the intruder, and are therefore hit by the earthquake the hardest. tamara, at least, is able to ride out the tremors with relaxed knees and some creative balancing, long used to galene's own earthquakes. nyx, boosted by charon's tailwind, is able to dodge it entirely. others are not as lucky, but tamara ignores them. if they are in pain, then they are still alive, and at this moment with their enemies right at their doorstep that is all that she cares about. she has always been good at prioritizing things. the woman has an additional pokemon out now -- a gourgeist. with only nyx by her side, truly, tamara considers evening the odds. a hydreigon. a golurk. or a gourgeist. which would cause more damage, she wonders. the hyper voice causes people to fall to the ground and clutch at their ears, but she does not move, only interrupted in her thoughts. the vibrations down into her eardrums wakes her up instead, keeps her alive, keeps her moving, keeps her thinking. skeiron dodges the leech seed with ease, as the entirety of the battleground's sky is at his wingtips; the rest of the airborne crew do the same, and those with the move pass by in a barrage of night slashes at the golurk instead, those without refraining. nyx leaps towards the golurk with a feint attack at her claws. there is a pitfall trap directly in front of the hydreigon, tamara knows, that it will fall into if it were to move ahead. she isn't quite sure if it will work on the dragon or not, but hopefully it will at least buy them all some time to retaliate more effectively. she rubs her fingertips over one of her pokemon's balls, lightly, and pulls it out. theia bursts from it with a bright red light, lighting down onto her shoulder with a series of worried chirps. "not now," tamara murmurs, and the togekiss settles down with a shift of her wings before glaring at the foes that her teammates are engaging. she knows what she needs to do, and takes flight, charging an aura sphere that will hit the hydreigon before she flies straight up to join skeiron. that's it, we think. we're pretty sure that the sole woman and her pokemon is the only zemina here. tamara watches, and waits. skell bouras

[skell bouras]

[attr="class","boneshatter1"]

[attr="class","boneshatter2"]

DRUGS SUCK IT UP VANILLA ICIES, DONT TREAT ME ROUGH --- TREAT ME REALLY NICEYS, WOAH, CMON CMON ---

[attr="class","boneshatter3"]i don't remember my real mother, she died when i was very young. apparently that's where i got my eyes. she was a beautiful woman- i would stare at pictures of her sometimes, as a young child, and she would look back with an empty stare. she didn't mean much to me. i never met her.

family connections are much less significant than we make them out to be. we tend to build them up and make them something they are not. spending holidays with family; visits, hugs, kisses, goodbyes. in my family, you were there or you weren't, there were no "visits." if you left, you might as well be dead.

it was natural that my mind wander to death in my younger years. i had been raised knowing and thinking that death was the only escape- the only way to leave honorably. the only way to go but retain respect. my father taught me all of it. what a selfish bastard.

because i know, as i learned after years and years of thinking, there is one other way out.

up.

---

orcus is fast, but after boosting his defense so high, he tanks both hits with relative ease, although they still leave him slightly stunned. skell glares at him and he snaps back to battle, using telekinesis to lift his trainer up.

up, and up, and up. skell disappears from view into the trees, her silph scope allowing her to watch from the heavy thicket.

orcus, this time, tries a shadow punch on the recently released togekiss, while melinoe is battered by an aura sphere. she retaliates with a hyper voice and a scary face, aimed at the togekiss. the maddening and terrifying screeches from the hyper voice stretch across the whole forest and will hit every enemy target. it will take careful precision to dodge.

menoetes aims a flamethrower and a leech seed at the skarmory and sends them simultaneously.

---

skell cannot help but breathe heavily as she carefully edges along a branch, her body compact and crouched.

she is on edge, she is thoroughly buzzed- ready to jump from the raw adrenaline rushing through her veins. looking at the ground, she can think for what feels like the first time in hours. what a fragile thing life is, just one small jump and she'd be gone. forever.

they say being alive is a war. sometimes peaceful, but occasionally it involves fighting for your very privilege to breathe. thrilling duels on the more macabre spectrum. deadly battles. but at some point, someone's gonna drop the china. and life goes with it.

there's no use in being finifugal about it. death was not final.

---

death was not final. it was something my father believed in his whole life and i agreed with him. perhaps it was for my own security, at the time. thinking that there was something after death, that it was not the end was calming in a way. if death was not the end, why be afraid of it?

yes, perhaps it was for my own security, at the time, but i grew to believe it. my ghosts were captured, after all, to get me a step closer to understanding death. i wanted to be familiar with it.

i wanted to destroy it. the idea of death was frightening to me. at dusk and at dawn, death was what i feared. death is all i fear.

scratch that, bloody silph scope.

nonexistence is all i fear.

tamara

deltra of gangnam style

[newclass=.boneshatter1]background-color:#151515;width:495px;height:495px;color:#bbbbbb;font-size:10px;text-align:justify;overflow:hidden;[/newclass]
[newclass=.boneshatter3]width:447px;padding-right:3px;height:337px;margin-top:15px;margin-left:25px;overflow:auto;border:solid 2px #151515;[/newclass]
[newclass=.boneshatter3::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb:vertical]background-color:#4987E8;border:solid 2px #151515;border-radius:7px;[/newclass]
[newclass=.boneshatter3::-webkit-scrollbar]background-color:#eeeeee;width:11px;border:solid 5px #151515;[/newclass]
[newclass=.boneshatter2]margin-top:0px;position:relative;z-index:1;-webkit-transition-duration:.4s;transition-duration:.4s;-moz-transition-duration:.4s;[/newclass]
[newclass=.boneshatter2:hover]margin-top:-380px;-webkit-transition-duration:.4s;transition-duration:.4s;-moz-transition-duration:.4s;[/newclass]

[tamara]

the wind wraps me like the reaper's hand

a battle is fought on one front. a war, on two -- against the enemy, and against the world itself for the support of one's side. theia fights a war on three. the shadow punch is unavoidable at point-blank range, but theia, with the help of the tailwind still raging on her side of the battlefield, manages to take partial damage. the hyper voice in its all-encompassing range is more difficult, and she wobbles in her flight path as she ascends to skeiron's level. the scary face is something that she has an answer for -- in a fit of mirror move she replies in kind at the hydreigon with a scary face of her own, firing another aura sphere for good riddance. skeiron is the sole leader in the skies, and as such, he has a space of time in which to initiate another autotomize, lightening his steel body enough to avoid the majority of the flamethrower attack, though not all of it. though his iron feathers are red-hot and burning to the touch, he does not falter; he has trained not to falter. the skarmory is not concerned with a mere leech seed; even while sapping at his strength, it, in and of itself, is a highly ineffective move. he slices through the sky with another night slash, this time at the gourgeist that had planted the seed on him. a world war is fought on all sides by all countries, by all parties involved. the hyper voice does not faze nyx, long used to loud noises as she is in her customary position next to tamara while she razes new troops into the ground during drills. she blocks out the sound with ease, though not without taking some damage; and with the golurk still in range, she fires a shadow ball straight at his face, her back glimmering in a moonlight to take care of any stray damage that the hyper voice might have caused. the hyper voice might not have fazed any of tamara's pokemon, but the same can not be said for the entirety of boure. many stagger and fall again, though some have had the foresight this time to have thrown up a few light screens to protect them and their own. they have their orders; they will not interfere in this fight. there is a sound behind her, and tamara turns her head to look over her shoulder and -- what is he doing here. charon does not have an answer, nor do the others that she is telepathically linked to. tamara can only watch as the misdreavus struggles his way out of her shadow, sheepishly grinning. the misdreavus belongs to one of her lieutenants, far behind herself and the front line. by all rights, it should not be here, but be with its own trainer instead. kaja, i hope you have a good explanation for this. skell bouras

[skell bouras]

[attr="class","boneshatter1"]

[attr="class","boneshatter2"]

DRUGS SUCK IT UP VANILLA ICIES, DONT TREAT ME ROUGH --- TREAT ME REALLY NICEYS, WOAH, CMON CMON ---

[attr="class","boneshatter3"]i had two brothers. and then i had one, then zero, and now one again. the eldest, who was supposedly "first in line for the throne." and he made sure i always knew it.

but when it came down to it, he couldn't do a thing. he was paralyzed; mortified. and he was useless, so my father took care of it. all i could say: "bye."

fernando smiled at us, and left. i never knew why. all i could say: "bye." i thought father had silenced him for the longest time too. but he returned, crooked smile and all.

i don't give up. i proved that. i deserved that throne.

scratch that too- fuck the throne, stupid throne. i am the throne, and i am the king. i don't need the throne. i don't need the support. all i need is my own mind, and i can thrive.

for how long?

---

melinoe can only release one, final hyper voice, before she faints in a screaming and screeching rage. orcus does not care, it only continues the fight, using another iron defense, as it takes a shadow ball to the face. it's empty and glowing eyes do not even bother with the umbreon- they focus on the togekiss yet again, throwing another shadow punch towards it.

menoetes is hit by night slash and wails, but quickly retaliates with both a flamethrower and a confuse ray, hurling towards the skarmory quickly. the flame in it's large, pumpkin stomach flares and crackles loudly.

skell can hear it all. she trusts them, although she is slightly disappointed that melinoe falls so early. she releases erebus, the dusknoir, from her position in the tree, and he creeps down to the field, only a shadow on the ground.

he arrives fashionably late, per usual- but sends a strong ice punch towards the togekiss, in attempt to make up for his tardiness. he sends a will o wisp as well, for good measure.

---

many people talk of war and battles and epic confrontations. i do not believe in them. how i fight, in the heat of the moment, doing my duty (whether for personal gain or not) is not war, not battle. i have been in both, but it is up to me to decide when i have waged war.

war, and battles, are fights of passion and desire. i am a simple pawn for zemina, currently at least, and therefore i am not in the battle, even if i am part of it. there is a big difference.

i battled my father for years, a pawn gone rogue. and there has been one thought that has always plagued me- he knew about it. he knew i would eventually rise to the occasion and take what was rightfully mine. it was only in my nature... he was my father, after all.

but he didn't do a thing. he didn't try to stop me. he didn't try to talk me out of it. why didn't he try to talk me out of it? i killed my father. and he wanted me to. and i don't know why. he surrendered...but i think he cheated, bloody silph scope. i just don't know how yet.

i have seen wars raging, i have seen battles won and lost and i have celebrated and i have grieved. and i'll see many more.

so, so, so many.

---

skell carefully planned her route down the tree. she had made it to a much, much lower branch. somewhere along the way she stopped shaking. the adrenaline was toned down, you could say, but she was still alert.

the silph scope almost did it for her, highlighting the easiest route down. and she leapt and landed alright. her ankle was slightly twisted and it gave her knees a jolt, but it wasn't particularly bad. she could continue. that was all she could do.

thanatos resumed his place beside her. he had been scouting on the treetops prior, but she was oh so happy to have him. her plan was careful, but it had to play out quickly if it was to succeed. and she planned on succeeding, she always does.

she won't lose her edge, she won't lose her edge.

tamara

deltra of gangnam style

[newclass=.boneshatter1]background-color:#151515;width:495px;height:495px;color:#bbbbbb;font-size:10px;text-align:justify;overflow:hidden;[/newclass]
[newclass=.boneshatter3]width:447px;padding-right:3px;height:337px;margin-top:15px;margin-left:25px;overflow:auto;border:solid 2px #151515;[/newclass]
[newclass=.boneshatter3::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb:vertical]background-color:#4987E8;border:solid 2px #151515;border-radius:7px;[/newclass]
[newclass=.boneshatter3::-webkit-scrollbar]background-color:#eeeeee;width:11px;border:solid 5px #151515;[/newclass]
[newclass=.boneshatter2]margin-top:0px;position:relative;z-index:1;-webkit-transition-duration:.4s;transition-duration:.4s;-moz-transition-duration:.4s;[/newclass]
[newclass=.boneshatter2:hover]margin-top:-380px;-webkit-transition-duration:.4s;transition-duration:.4s;-moz-transition-duration:.4s;[/newclass]

[tamara]

the wind wraps me like the reaper's hand

in battle, a situation in which one single target has the entirety of the battle field's attention is precarious. training can only go so far. her wings fail her; theia is hit by everything, and falls from the sky in the only way a star knows how: violently. only a red haze of light protects her from further damage, and tamara returns her oldest friend's pokeball to her side. nyx and skeiron are left to pick up the slack, though the skarmory faces problems of his own; in dodging the flamethrower that would, no doubt, take of him off of the battlefield as the combined attacks had done his togekiss friend, he chooses to be hit by the confuse ray instead, taking his chances. in a world of swirled colors and tilting gravity, he attempts an assurance at the gourgeist. nyx launches herself into the air with another feint attack, this time at the grass-ghost, teeth bared and angry. tamara fingers another pokeball, and makes her decision. a quagsire appears onto the dusty ground, blue skin harshly backlit against red light. she smiles a sharp smile and moves in a rain dance, dark clouds gathering above. it starts to rain -- and as it does, galene shoots muddy water at the golurk. though it might be a difficult opponent to assault now with its defense so high, it does not mean that the giant will be forgotten. because we worry, kaja finally says. his misdreavus drifts by her side, content to float in the air with a sheepish smile. tamara doesn't speak, nor react to the rain, but looks to where the zemina woman stands in the tree branches with her gengar. it is tempting to have charon attack the ghost, and she can feel him moving, starting to prepare a mental assault. she stops him, reluctant for him to draw attention to himself, behind the lines as he is. in a storm created by her own pokemon, she smiles, like her quagsire had done. zemina might have had the offensive advantage, but tamara is not finished yet, almost all of her cards laid out onto the table or not. skell bouras

[skell bouras]

[attr="class","boneshatter1"]

[attr="class","boneshatter2"]

DRUGS SUCK IT UP VANILLA ICIES, DONT TREAT ME ROUGH --- TREAT ME REALLY NICEYS, WOAH, CMON CMON ---

[attr="class","boneshatter3"]i didn't ever wish to be the woman in the kitchen, "stirring the pasta," as some cliches would say. that simply wasn't me, although it was my father's first solution to my competence. i was to be a good little girl, to stand behind at his shoulder. i was to "support" in this dirty and violent world. i wanted to cry out to him, "i'm more than that, i can do more than that. i can be more than that."

he realized eventually that it was not for me. and instead i was meant to follow in his footsteps. and then marry. and then stand behind someone else.

but oh, how could i stand beside anyone and watch them wage war. how could i love someone, and watch them put themselves in danger, "tending to their wounds" when i could have prevented them in the first place. how could i love someone, when i don't trust him to keep himself alive? why would i love someone who will not survive.

call it a damnation if you want, but i'll be living large until it's all over. i've already decided- i am doomed to outlive those i love.

---

skell and thanatos are huddled at the base of a tree, back to back, slowly scanning their surroundings. skell gives a whistle- not loud, but orcus will hear it.

there's a gun on her belt. she puts a hand on it cautiously, gritty and red painted nails wrapping around the fore end. she doesn't want to shoot- she never does- but if all else fails, she will not hesitate. she won't lose sight of the prize. she won't lose her nerve, not now.

a slim figure and a threatening gengar disappear into the brush. destination: fuchsia.

---

menoetes is not very fast, but can roll out of the way when the skarmory hurdles towards him, dodging the assurance. not with very much grace, but he did it no less. however, he is slashed and tormented by the faint attack, recoiling and wailing, just barely hanging on.

orcus is clever and fast, dodging the muddy water with a simple leap into the air and a well performed hover. his head turns suddenly- as if he has heard something...far off. but familiar. he lands on the ground, as an earthquake shakes the ground. it's the last straw.

the trees fall out of place, falling like dominoes, the trees completely uprooted. the ground cracks and shakes and fails beneath their feet, and orcus can do nothing but grab menoetes and fly as far as he can go- up and up and up and up.

erebus sinks under the ground and slips into other areas of the forest.

---

i don't need anyone to support me, i've said it before and i'll say it again: i will do both. i will lead and i will follow and ultimately, i'll succeed. i'll be fighting until my final breath. i'm not like my father, i don't give up, i do not settle. that's not who i am.

there's always something greater in this world to look for. it's up to me to find what it is, and when i have, when i do, i'll find it. and that will be my glory, that will be my worth.

there are obstacles, i've seen them. i've prepared myself for them. sometimes there are surprises, but i will improvise. there's a freedom in that. i know that i will get through it, if i wish, because there's always a way.

the only person i can trust, to stay alive, to find glory. the only person i will stand behind is myself.

---

orcus finds his way to skell, following the sound of a mere whistle. he is a supermachine, ancient technology with incredible brainpower and sensory replicators. skell doesn't even glance at his wounds, only continues walking. they remain tightly wound, a pack of cigarettes. closely together, because it's better that way. skell walks in the center, her squad protecting her from almost every angle.

erebus arrives next, rising up from a shadow on the ground. he gives a demon-like smile and a low growl. skell cannot decipher it- but he is trying to tell her something. oh well.

she'll improvise.

they make their way to a route gate, a main entrance to the city. "burn it. crumble it. destroy it, whatever." she says, and menoetes attacks immediately with a strong flamethrower, whilst erebus throws a shadow punch and a will o wisp at it, feeding the destruction. slowly, it becomes more and more shaky. the crackling of flames and crashing of falling rubble is all that can be heard. skell watches the flames; blinks.

destination: forward.

tamara

deltra of gangnam style

[newclass=.boneshatter1]background-color:#151515;width:495px;height:495px;color:#bbbbbb;font-size:10px;text-align:justify;overflow:hidden;[/newclass]
[newclass=.boneshatter3]width:447px;padding-right:3px;height:337px;margin-top:15px;margin-left:25px;overflow:auto;border:solid 2px #151515;[/newclass]
[newclass=.boneshatter3::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb:vertical]background-color:#4987E8;border:solid 2px #151515;border-radius:7px;[/newclass]
[newclass=.boneshatter3::-webkit-scrollbar]background-color:#eeeeee;width:11px;border:solid 5px #151515;[/newclass]
[newclass=.boneshatter2]margin-top:0px;position:relative;z-index:1;-webkit-transition-duration:.4s;transition-duration:.4s;-moz-transition-duration:.4s;[/newclass]
[newclass=.boneshatter2:hover]margin-top:-380px;-webkit-transition-duration:.4s;transition-duration:.4s;-moz-transition-duration:.4s;[/newclass]

[caedmon]

▶ success: skell bouras.

tamara has forfeited the battle. you both may continue to post in the thread, if you wish.