Chapter Text
It'd been too long since The Rogues partook in what was, by far, one of their greatest binding hobbies.
Yes, what locked many of them in liquid brotherhoods, and what separated its warriors from its scholars. The singular event that made memories, funny stories, and so much more. Of course, it was...
Drinking.
Yes, the Admiral was fitted with a small bar in its cabin. All of the drinks were stacked in such a way that heavy turbulence to the ship's hull or keel would not cause them to fall out or shatter.
Orochi and Maru strode up onto the deck, followed by Kazekiri. The trio each had a drink in one paw, which they clinked together merrily, laughing and bantering all the while.
"Mmph!" Maru called mid-drink, cultivating the attention of the other two, "A-And then what, eh? How was it?"
Orochi grinned, laughing with a pink, inebriated blush on his drooling face, "Tell you what, the best shite I've ever had." He guffawed, as Kazekiri and Maru erupted into fits of boyish giggles, "Felt like I'd pissed the wrong way, it was so painless."
"You're fuckin' foul, mate." Kazekiri laughed, giving Orochi a playful punch in the shoulder, "So, never gonna eat Tamato Berry Curry again, eh?"
"Yer feckin' right, lad. I'll take the basic, mild options any day now." He laughed, as Maru joined back in.
"I didn't need to hear about any of that, ya filthy bastard." He jeered back, giving Orochi a well-deserved dig in his other shoulder, causing the drunken Leafeon to roll his eyes.
The laughter between the three began to slowly settle down as they sat back aboard the deck, taking delightful slugs of their own drinks.
"Mm! So, Itami, what're you thinkin' boys?" Kazekiri asked, trying to steer the conversation away from the admittedly taboo subject Orochi had raised previously. Maru rested his drink down for a brief moment.
"Well, it's unlike anything I've seen on Osore." He replied, looking up at the sky with a slight wobble to his neck. Orochi grinned at the slight stupor that overcame his comrade as he chipped in himself.
"I second that, I like this city, 's calm and stuff, there's a lot less black I've noticed." Orochi muttered, leaning over the railing on the deck and looking out onto the graceful, salty, wooden docks the city had stuck out boisterously, as if they were brandished weapons, "Water's nice and clean, few trees growin', seems pretty sweet here."
"I guess that'll be because... y'know, the city's relatively unaffected by the industrialization of the other islands, 'specially Osore." Kazekiri replied, causing Orochi to groan.
"I swear, fishdog, if you go on another rant about your politics, I will poke that forked tail o' yours into both yer eyes!" Orochi grinned jokingly, "I agree wit' yer politics, yes, but I wanna enjoy my holiday."
"This 'ent a fucking holiday!" Maru retorted back, giving Orochi a sharp punch with his fist, "We're here for political reasons, lettuce! Y'know, the whole 'Osore attacking Itami' ordeal! Did you forget that??"
"Look, I don't wanna think about that, fecker..." Orochi grunted, rubbing the spot where Maru had punched him with one of his vines, "I know we're gonna have to, since... let's face it, we're gonna be in the fight for Redemption, but let me just enjoy this brief peace whilst it lasts. I predict that when this first attack happens, all hell's gonna break loose."
"Elaborate."
"Is it not obvious to ya? I'd say it's gonna cause an uproar, all kinds of things are gonna go off at once. Kikin's gonna react, dread to think what Kurushimu's gonna do. Itami itself is gonna either successfully fight it off or be completely annexed, no in between." Orochi muttered bitterly, taking another huge swig of his drink before continuing, "There's gonna be war, people. If this whole thing is about to go down, there's gonna be war..."
"War?" Kazekiri asked, "I mean... worst case scenario. You're being awful pessimistic."
"That's what he's like when he drinks, miserable cunt." Maru sighed, as Kazekiri nodded.
"Yeah, true, true." He replied.
"War is brewing if this all goes wrong." Orochi simply muttered, "It will burn up the world."
~
Monarcha and Myuku were sat underneath the ship's deck, talking idly amongst each other. The wood creaked amicably and the distant, salty aroma of the sea wafted gently through the galleon, giving a very natural and earthy atmosphere.
"Y'know... I'm glad I left the SG, it's a lot calmer here, isn't it?" Monarcha mumbled, taking a sip from her drink. Myuku wasn't entirely sure what it was, but it was orange and bubbly, so he'd assumed it to be beer.
"I'd assume it was hectic there. I-I mean, I have a lot of respect for their values, but... their methods sound disorganized. How'd y-you even sign up?" Myuku asked, causing Monarcha to sit back briefly, pondering the question, but less about what the answer was, but rather how to word it.
"Well... it went a bit like this."
. . .
Monarcha Majewski,
I hope this letter finds you in a good circumstance. Tell me all about your life! It feels like an age since we talked. Things are different, I'm aware, what with all the new regulations and such, and how we can't be in the same station. That doesn't mean that I think any less of you as an individual! You are my friend, first and foremost, and the colour of your fur could never change how valid of an individual you are.
I'm currently working in the center of Blackfall. They're not really the best working conditions, but I make do with them alright. If you want to see me, pop by on any weekday from 1pm to 1:30 (that's my break!). It'd be lovely to see what kind of blossoming Pokemon you've become, and I speak on behalf of everyone when I say that we would love to see you!
Yours Sincerely, S...
The paper of the letter right before the name of the sender had been torn off crudely, for what reason Monarcha didn't know, but she knew who it must've been from regardless. She smiled at the letter, taking it indoors and placing it in a small draw underneath her desk. Monarcha stared out of the window. The town she grew up in was in its industrialization phase, spurred on by Blackfall nearby, and the blackened limbs of the City of Misery were clear as day whilst they attempted to insidiously grasp the nearby towns.
She left the complex slowly, turning to look at the sign atop the building, sighing slowly. It was, as it would ever be...
The 'West Osorian Shiny House.'
These damned Shiny Houses, they were an insult to her. She couldn't live normally, couldn't purchase any other property. She shook her head insultingly, feeling her eyes sharpen a little at the sight. She wasn't anything but a burden to this town, nothing but something that needed its own house, its own place to fester where it could be far away. The Shiny House itself was quite far away from most other residential areas, located a two or so minute walk from any other house.
She sighed, hanging her head low and walking into the town once more, looking about at the stands, she could feel eyes, eyes from house windows, from stalls. They were judging her, they were scared, they were confused. Those eyes, they looked, and they didn't blink, as if she would go into a frenzy if given the opportunity.
Children hugged their mothers tighter, couples squeezed each other's hands a little tighter, the richer of those walking by would clutch their purse or wallet a little tighter. It felt awful, knowing that she stirred so much hatred, and distrust, and vitriol. There was an air of uncertainty that hung around her, like an ugly cloud, but she saw it differently to everyone else. They saw it as a sign, a sign to avoid her, but she saw it more as a sign of active self-loathing, as if it were only there to make her own day worse.
Her eyes stuck to the ground, nervous to see the sky as she walked. It wasn't every day that she'd have these quaint walks, well, they would be quaint if...
If she weren't a miscolour, a dirty miscolour. A word she'd heard so many times, she didn't care to correct or inform on its offensiveness, everyone knew, but it didn't seem that anyone paid any mind. She was a proud miscolour, dammit! Proud to be different, proud to self-represent, proud to hold her identity as something different, and how nice it'd be if everyone could do that, she'd thought. But these Pokemon didn't deserve her idea of kindness, her idea of equality, because then they'd complain, they'd demand their rights back, and then it'd all plunge into greater division.
It was, in her mind, the common and reoccurring nature of the individual, fueled by any slight imbalance, preferably in their favour. Monarcha Majewski wasn't always a political one, but damn, the world she lived in certainly spurred her on to be. She was more than a vessel of unjustness, surely? More than a punching bag for those who happened to be more 'normal'. She'd tell herself that day by day, but the more it happened, and the less it was reassured by those who were normal, the more it felt fictitious...
She was a weapon of politics, an acolyte of a cruel and scornful agenda, subservient to customs she was ethically opposed to, all because she had been too disenfranchised to do anything about it. Good!
Good, she thought, to be such a catalyst, to be the representation of their failure, so that when their cast-iron eyes finally melted under her presence, they could see the horrid wretch that they'd let fester, all because the idea of inclusivity was considered too progressive. If she was a statement of Pokemon and their shortcomings, she was sure to let the whole fucking world know.
She was Monarcha Majewski, a headstrong woman, regardless of her colour scheme. Miscolour or not, she was a dutiful, noble, honourable, polite, respectful woman. And no stripping of amenities and commodities could convince her of the adverse. If politics were a warrior, she would happily be its weapon.
And so, back into the Shiny House she went.
A little shanty house, with a common seating lodge, full of starved, shaking Shinies, their ribs poking through their meatless torsos, as if pleading for a more adequate vessel to occupy, and a cold, shivering look in their pupils, void of any colour but a grey in many. Monarcha sat down at a table, looking over to where a new occupant was thrown in but a few moments later.
A silence preceded by a gasp ensued as a cloaked, canine Pokemon was tossed in there, the rags in their shawl covering their body in its inky, viral blackness. All eyes remained on the discarded Pokemon, as suddenly, a pink, long, forked tail, aligned with shimmering, purple scales swished its way from out of the folds of the cloak.
The figure rose to their feet, coughing and spluttering as they rubbed their eyes, their whimpers and groans of anguish sounding overtly feminine. She hammered her chest, as if to get her heart pumping once more. Monarcha stared down at the figure who had arisen in this new, cold, unwelcome environment.
A Shiny Vaporeon.
As she rose, her fins drooped, and though the eyes all began to drift away from the new occupant, she still felt awkward and intrusive. Monarcha kept her gaze fixated on the Vaporeon, which caught her attention, especially as another Eeveelution. Hobbling over on three strong legs and a limping hind left, she slowly sat herself down beside Monarcha, sighing and gasping for air. Monarcha eyed her with confusion, before passing her a tankard of water.
"Here, it'll fix you up briefly." She offered bluntly, as the Vaporeon took the tankard in a shaky paw, guzzling it with frightening gusto.
"Thanks... thanks a million." She sighed, plopping her head down onto the table for a brief moment before looking up and continuing, "I-I don't know what happened I just... where am I?"
"You're in a town called Avonport, little industrial town right outside of Blackfall." Monarcha returned glumly, as the Vaporeon shook her head to keep herself conscious.
"Fuckin... Blackfall. Right, OK. And now I'm... at the Shiny House?" She asked as Monarcha nodded, "Shit, I've been caught again. Look, I've got something going on that I... and some Shiny Eeveelutions are a part of. It's a big deal."
"Do go on." Monarcha raised her eyebrows, leaning in and raising an inquisitive eyebrow. The Vaporeon cleared her throat, turning her head to look at her own undulating, pink, fishy tail.
"Oh I mustn't discuss it here, not in the open." She whispered frightfully, as Monarcha stood from the table, offering her newfound companion an arm, "It's more than we can be ready for."
"I'd like to validate that claim, I must say, I'm no stranger to your services, I'm sure." She muttered, heading up a narrow flight of shoddy wooden steps to a public room full of beds. Though it was vacant for the time being, and the beds were tats and rags, it would've otherwise been used to house all of the Shinies during the Osorian nights, "Tell me more."
"Right... have you ever heard of a little... group, as it were, known as...
The Shadowed Gems...?"
. . .
"So... you're a victim of radicalization?" Myuku asked, giving Monarcha a moment to breathe and process what she'd just said.
"Yeah, but not by their hands. I was radicalized enough already. Still am. I've got good reason to." Monarcha looked at the Jolteon, an almost defensive tint in her eyes, which unnerved Myuku a little, "Do you think I'm being unreasonable?"
"No, no." Myuku clarified, with a quick shake of his head, and a raising of his paws in mock surrender, "I'd say... I am too. We're all radicals. For different reasons."
"What's your story, then?" Monarcha asked, leaning forward and resting her chin in her paw.
"I'm a political writer. I believe that Osore threatens the Archipelago's safety with its economics, citizenship and harmful elitist ideals." Myuku replied, puffing himself up a bit in an attempt to feign self confidence, which Monarcha found endearing.
"Do you support the idea of shiny liberation?" Monarcha asked with a large dollop of invasiveness, given how passionate she was on the subject. Myuku nodded.
"I do. We all do."
"I... I want to be free." Monarcha whispered.
"So do I." Myuku replied, "D-Do you think we have a different idea of freedom?"
"Everyone does. My idea of freedom is not to be persecuted. To coexist with non shinies in a place free of judgement. But that goes far beyond my lifetime, I imagine."
"Not with what I believe we're capable of." Came a voice from beside the two. Shoku approached the duo, her lily tucked behind her ear looking notably resplendent that day.
"Alright, Miss Positivity." Monarcha chuckled, pulling a seat for her.
"I've heard so many nicknames for me now, it's comical." Shoku tittered, taking a seat, "But I'm being genuine, I think we can fix the image of Shinies for the better."
"SG aren't doing us any favours..." Monarcha huffed. Shoku looked a little confused.
"I thought they operated in secret? Are the populous aware of them?" She asked, to which Monarcha took a small swig of a drink before replying.
"Well, not in Kikin, apparently. They're aware of some of the minor branches in Goldshire, but... I don't think that they think of us as any more than a gaggle of hooligans. They're a bit more than that, as we know." Monarcha mused.
"Should we not bring it to the attention of those in higher standing?" Shoku asked.
"I think we all know better than to trust the rich man." Myuku muttered, sounding uncharacteristically angry.
"Too right."
"Do we aim to destroy or alter the ways of the SG?" Shoku asked again, seemingly quite curious.
"That's a good question."
~
"We're not doing it anymore."
"Kiki, this is ridiculous! I know that you've not had the easiest past with them, but... now they're poised with knives at our throats!" Kasha retorted back, Kiru clenched her teeth, huffing angrily.
"You want to kill the brainwashed, the disenfranchised? We're killing innocents, Kasha!" She snapped, slamming her fist on the table. Most would've been put off, but Kasha had grown accustomed to her outbursts.
"If we don't kill them first, then we'll be killed ourselves! They're hardly innocents." She snapped back, a brief silence befalling the duo. Kiru huffed angrily, pacing about the wheelhouse, a stern frown painted on her cyan muzzle as she bit the inside of her cheeks in thought. Her mind was a maelstrom, a raging torrent, threatening to let loose on her own best friend.
"Why do you think they're killing us? Because we hurt them, Kasha. We have done horrible things, I have done horrible things! I... I can't hurt them anymore, not without it all flooding back to me. I'll be no better than the bigot I grew up as." She huffed, turning away from her friend and staring at the wall. She wasn't emotional, per se, as Kasha had come to realize. She was volatile, and irritable, and most would've known better to not light a match near the bomb, but Kasha wasn't scared of her anymore.
"You are leaps and bounds better than your past, Kiki... Arceus above, you just... don't take it in, do you?" She replied, sounding quite frustrated herself.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Kiru snapped back harshly, wheeling around with a nasty look in her eyes, before it petered out swiftly, "Kasha, I... I just... shit! Ugh, this is fucking stupid." She cursed wildly.
"This is a complex issue, I know."
"You think I wanted to be out there? Fighting those Shinies a few days back now? Killing them in their tens?? I hid, like I had any other fucking choice..." She huffed, driving another fist into the table with such intensity, steam may as well have blown out of her ears.
"It's hard to take politics out of situations like this, I understand that--" Kasha began, before Kiru cut her off.
"Oh really? You fucking think?! What do you think our basis is? What is this whole exodus about?! It's all politics, even if we don't want it to be. We're vessels of politics, whether we want it to be or not..." Kiru muttered through clenched teeth.
Kasha was going to open her mouth, but it shut before she could get any words out. It stung to see her friend like this, but this catharsis was absolutely necessary.
"Innocents are being slaughtered for their freedom to co-exist with us, Kasha. By acting as a force against them, we're helping the exact kind of bigotry that we, that I, vowed to never associate with again prosper." Kiru lamented, "I'm being radicalized by them, and I don't care anymore."
Kasha was relatively speechless, not due to surprise, but to let the Glaceon bask in the somberness of the moment. The air around the two was deathly silent, save from the sound of Kiru's heavy breathing and the brief flickers of conversation from outside. A blackness befell the Ice-Type as she sat there.
"Are you telling me... that you want us to ally with the Shadowed Gems?"
"No." Kiru concluded, feeling a weird dreading sense pounding in her head, "But we can't antagonize them for their cause."
"We never did, we antagonize them for their practices." Kasha replied, as Kiru sighed once more.
"I don't want to think about this. I can't pick a side in this pointless war..." Kiru stood up.
"Where are you going?" Kasha asked politely, trying to not sound rude in any way, given her friends evidently deteriorated temper.
"To get a drink."
~
Perhaps, as the wind blew, he thought, loneliness wasn't so bad.
He had Kasha, sure, and she was a lot to him, but there was comfort in solidarity, wasn't there?
The gentle, salty sea-breeze whisked through the air, shaking hands with Kazekiri as he looked over the sea. The conversation between him, Orochi and Maru hadn't died down so much as he had distanced himself from it for his own free time. Though a social bug, he knew the importance of self-reflection during difficult times, especially this.
This, Arceus, this was like nothing he'd ever faced. He was a weapon now, here to end a war and kickstart the Revolution, like those industrialisers had done years before. Funny, he would think, that in their quest for unity of the working man, the rich only grew richer and the poor poorer. Perhaps their own work would crumble posthumously, just like theirs, but Kazekiri, though not always confident, was certainly aiming to be an optimist.
A manifesto would've looked good seated in the Admiral, but that'd have to wait to see if he'd died. Life now, he knew, was less of a psychological question, and more of a dangling uncertainty, placed just barely, agonizingly out of his grasp. It was now, anyways. His politics may have meant more, but he was really no more important than any other liberal weirdo with an ineptitude when it came to talking to those of the opposite gender.
Not to mention, a manifesto would've taken years, so maybe a poem or two could express his beliefs more concisely? Nah, he'd concluded, poems are for right loners, Shoku could handle all of that nonsense, Myuku too.
What was he going to discover? How was he going to have his name written down for a student to learn? What was his goal?
It was something each Rogue had asked themselves countless times, what was their goal? For Kiru, he knew, it was reconciling with her troubled past, and coming to terms with how she had a new life to live. For Shoku, it was finally earning her long-awaited accolades for her medicinal marvels, and to finally see it in herself to hold pride within her heart.
Orochi and Maru, yes, though outwardly drunkards, had motives too. Orochi wanted, though it never seemed it, to overcome his alcoholic reliance. He had, rather ironically, drunkenly confessed it to him. Maru wanted to help protect Asuke as best as he could, as well as helping mainly with Shoku's goals. Asuke herself wanted to be the best mixologist possible, perhaps even open a bar of her own.
Kasha mainly wanted to help Kiru, but also wanted to improve herself, too. She was very determined, as he knew, to be the most physical individual he knew, and though she didn't see Kiru as competition, he could tell that there had always been the little devilish tint of envy somewhere. Or at least, he'd thought that, he couldn't have confirmed it, nor did he entirely want to.
Hell, even Monarcha seemed pretty dead-set on her goals of bringing down the Shadowed Gems and restoring them to their old ways of peaceful protesting. She arguably had the most significant true cause out of any of them.
What did he have? Oh, that was a hard ask. He didn't truly know himself. His family, though not dead, were still very much long gone from his life, so he felt no need to prove anything to them. He wouldn't have missed the chance to smack them across the face should the opportunity ever rise for him, but he knew it likely never would.
His journey, was that his goal? It could've been if he weren't so focused on looking for some greater, personal achievement. He hadn't done everything he'd wanted with his life yet, but... if he were to die today, he likely could've rested with ease. A lot more ease than his friends, that's for sure.
His bucket list was, by every immediately important metric that he could imagine, essentially complete...
~
"You grant us an audience with her?"
"That we do, rally your menagerie."
The Gallade from the previous night stood at the docks, having coaxed Kiru for a conversation. As luck would've had it, the Prime Minister had purportedly taken wind of the information provided and had requested their presence, news that was nothing shy of resounding for the group.
They each walked through Skammdeggi, following the tall Gallade as he strode orderly through the easy streets, the light of dawn beginning to fade as it bled into midday's kiss. Once more did they stand before the red-roofed tower, the Gallade opening the door with a polite bow.
The staircase wound up for an immeasurable amount of time, in a stony spiral of torched walls and slim windows. The hindering helix would've perhaps proved too much for many incompetent adventurers, and indeed, Maru and Orochi were both gasping for breath as they had finally summitted the titanic tower. A large, wooden door, decorated with steel framework, was all that stood between The Rogues and the Prime Minister of Itami, Vivienne.
~
She was grandeur.
A shimmering, purple-petaled Florges, with shining, crystalline eyes, and the elegance of a stream of purified, still water. Radiant in both poise and movement, like a vial of a diamond planet's seas.
"The Rogues of Osore, yes?" Came her voice, whispery and feather-light, yet still with an air of importance and priority, billowing cosmically around the room. She seemed untrue in nature, not as if she didn't fit in with it, but rather an embodiment of its greatest marvels.
"I suppose that is what we go by, yes." Kiru hung her face in respect, seemingly humble before this divinity, "Do you know of the reason of our arrival?"
"Yes, I have been made aware." Her silky voice replied, gliding in effortlessly, like a rainbow in sunny rainfall.
"We come here in both humility and paranoia, Prime Minister." Kazekiri put forward, after clearing his throat, "We face great danger."
"That we do, Mr. Lyzaki." Vivienne replied, causing the Vaporeon's eyes to widen at her knowledge of him, "It'd be hard to not recognize the son of the Lyzaki bloodline. They were once close customers to my benevolence. Anyhow, are any of you from Itami, yourself?"
Kiru nudged forward Myuku, placing a comforting paw on his shoulder, as he pawed his way forward.
"I am... yes, I'm from Itami, Redemption, to be specific." Myuku fumbled over his words slightly, before concluding, causing Vivienne to nod.
"Ah, Redemption. It's a pleasant town, isn't it? And now... it finds itself under threat, does it?" She muttered solemnly, "A great shame... for my tendrils run too deep. I cannot allow that to happen."
"I should hope not, what can we do?" Myuku replied, seemingly desperate for answers, which warmed Vivienne a little.
"In truth, Itami was never known for its military prowess, but that won't stop light's perpetuity. I will see to it that Redemption is fortified within the day. Your map... it shows immense power in its foresight." Vivienne regarded, "I should imagine the other islands will no doubt aim to hear of this."
"Indeed, we want to protect Redemption as well, should that not've been obvious." Kiru stepped forth once more, approaching the Prime Minister's desk.
"It'll be our biggest undertaking yet as a group, and we want to show our worth to the other islands, that our voices deserve to be heard." chimed in Shoku.
"We're some of Osore's most capable warriors, we ought to have our voices heard." Asuke joined in, as Vivienne took a long breath.
"You all do, you are all pure of heart, and that has linked you all." Vivienne echoed wispily, as Maru nudged Orochi.
"Pure 'a heart, load of bollocks." He chuntered, as the Leafeon beside him chuckled weaselly at the statement too.
Vivienne closed her eyes briefly, and they eventually fluttered open, seemingly brighter than before.
"We of Itami, we rely on you as much as we rely on me. History should speak well of us, should we stand to write it in the absence of the corrupt. Should we allow evil to beseech our shores, nowhere is safe. If the hidden is exposed, the exposed will have no chance to hide." She pondered, not particularly directed to any of the Rogues in particular.
"You are a wise woman, I should like to read any of your works." Shoku commented appreciatively, as Vivienne let a smile cross her face.
"This room is a library of my memoirs, as it will be until I die. I am rooted to this room, in life as I will be in death, but I do not fear death's arrival soon, should fate speak well." Vivienne replied, a thankful gleam shimmering in her nebulous irises.
"You have... a way with words, Prime Minister." Kiru couldn't help but observe.
"I have ensconced myself within knowledge's tender arms, binding every essence of myself to this room, and bearing the wisdom of every word on every page." She ghosted wispily, "I am bound to this room. To death."
"That makes you... a dictator, are you not?" Myuku asked nervously, his ears pinning to the back of his head.
"Negative. We hold democratic elections every 6 months, I just so happen to win all of them with resound." Vivienne smiled bullishly, "Anyhow... the mission is simple, forces shall be sent to Redemption at once, and I trust that you all shall be heading over there as well?" She asked, to which Kiru and Kasha nodded.
"Indeed."
"I look forward to Itami's landslide victory." She smiles quaintly, before easing back, her eyes fluttering shut as she sequestered herself back into her little coven of knowledge. A guard or two appeared and escorted the group out of the room and back down the long, spiraling staircase.
~
"That is not what I was expecting."
That sentence had become the ultimate sentiment across the group as they began to leave Skammdeggi. The markets began to waver off and the lights that once hung above their heads warmly like shooting stars began to disappear into the leaves. The weather became overcast and cloudy, with a newly nipping wind having lingered insidiously around the city's borders.
The wooden huts and endless towers withstood the wind handily, but even their numbers dwindled as nature and society seemed to blend in more and more seamlessly, with large swathes of greenery slicing through the suburbs, and vines wrapping their leafy tendrils around the houses. A clutching fist of a tree's rootage would be seen interspersed, a temple of nature's encampment. It was the first time that all of The Rogues would be in nature properly, buried amongst the heart of the trees and underbrush.
~
The first night.
They had predicted that it'd maybe have taken just under a week to reach Redemption on foot, provided that they allowed chances to rest. They had set up a tiny encampment beneath the collapsed carcass of a once great tree.
Yes, that was the thing with the Itami flora, the further from society they went, the larger the trees were. These trees were enormous, great hulking beasts with bark armour, a woefully dead carapace, warding off seemingly everything. Their influence was felt as they knit closer and closer together, creating networks and junctions of branches above them, blending into a canopy that efficiently funneled whatever moonlight could've punched through into shimmering, pearlescent scars on the floor of dead plant matter.
Their weak fire burned, only sustained by Kasha's occasional flecks of fiery attacks. Despite the amount of woodchips and grass on the forest floor, the humidity made it difficult for a fire to start, as water permeated every once-dry fleck of wood. The dry sticks would've had to do, and they were grateful for it, as any amount of dryness would've spiraled into a blazing inferno if left unattended.
"It's awfully cold." Monarcha muttered, sighing heavily. Asuke beside her nodded, shivering a little as that awful wind still whispered overhead, murmuring its ominous incantations.
"Yeah... how're you finding all of this?" She asked, a little curious as to Monarcha's actual feelings. Behind the bar, the baristas had gotten rather close, and were more than familiar with these more personalised conversations.
"Better than I thought. Back on the boat, when Leuer attacked us, I was scared... I was conflicted, but I'm feeling a little more sure of things. I'm ready to pursue this, with you... with you all." She smiles, turning her face away briefly, before returning her gaze on the last few words.
"There's still a look of fear in your eyes." Asuke sighed, approached Monarcha, her feeler coming out to tentatively twirl around her ear. Monarcha was used to these moments now with Asuke, a slight, fleeting feeling of warmth now beating around the place, though the others were now asleep.
"Of course there is... Asuke, we could die tomorrow, or the day after..." Monarcha begin to drawl on, brow furrowing, before Asuke placed a ribbon to her lips, quieting the other Sylveon down.
"I've had the chance of dying every day of my life, Mona... and look, I still stand." Asuke murmured, approaching a little closer.
"You haven't lived my life... I-I'm so different to you! Arceus, I'm a miscolour--" Monarcha began, before Asuke silenced her once more, by embracing the other Sylveon tightly, grumbling, as if frustrated with her.
"You are not a miscolour, goddammit, you are a lovely, charming, delightfully crass young woman, the colour of your pelt doesn't make me think anything less of you." Asuke sighed, before pulling away and looking into the eyes of the Sylveon, "I hate how you see yourself so negatively."
"A-Asuke, I-I'm sorry--" Monarcha began, before Asuke shook her head.
"Don't apologize, you're better than that." She interjected, "Look at me, c'mon." She encouraged gently as the two made eye contact once more, Monarcha wiped away a tear threatening to stain her fur.
"Better...? What do you mean 'better'?" She asked, as Asuke smiled gently.
"Isn't it obvious? You're too beautiful to cry." She teased, causing the pair of them to chuckle, before a comfortable silence overcame them.
"You're sapphic, aren't you?" Monarcha asked, as Asuke curtsied gracefully.
"Was it that obvious?" Asuke grinned, "Look, Monarcha, you deserve love, and I want to give that to you as best as I can..."
"I would love to receive it, but... I think I ought to find myself to find someone else, does that make sense?" Monarcha replies slowly, stumbling over her words to try and soften the blow, but Asuke seemed relatively unharmed by the conclusion.
"May I at least help you try and find yourself?" Asuke beckoned, to which Monarcha nodded.
"You're already close." Monarcha teased, "C'mon, let's get some rest... massively important days ahead of us."
And indeed, the days would've been so.