WELCOME TO THE SINNOH REGION, a massive island rich with exploration and Pokemon. Legends say that Sinnoh was the very first Pokemon region to come into being;
and so the nefarious Team Galactic has begun searching for the time and space Pokemon in an effort to destroy and recreate the entire Pokemon Universe. Will you step up, earn your badges,
and fight to defend the world? Or do you believe in Galactic ideals, wishing to follow their efforts in starting anew?
[ 08.15 ] Welcome to Sinnoh! Team Rocket have arrived in Sinnoh and have left a very daunting message here. With the introduction of a new class comes another promo!
Check out the rocket promotion here and stay tuned for many more exciting events!
major news alert!
witness reports from all over the region has been flooding in about strange happenings at the three lakes. what's more perplexing is that these occurrences seem to be happening spontaneously at the lakes. just moments ago, a burst of light erupted at the locations and residents in the vicinity have reported that the lake-side pokemon have turned aggressive and attack on sight.
However, there have been rumours and sightings of the legendary lake trio which has had trainers flocking in from all over the region.
her dress clings to her body, hugs the curves of her waist, the slope of her back. there's little room for imagination, especially with the way she stalks, catlike, through the crowd. it's black against pallid skin; small, near invisible sequins embedded in the fabric make her look like she's inhabiting the night sky. bangs frame her cheeks like the crescent moon, the rest of her hair tucked back with a loose braid. she's above them, far from them--she's untouchable.
arms brush against her as bodies sway to music. she stays on the outskirts of the dance floor, keeps moving because one place too long leads to leering eyes, the idea that she could be tangible under fingertips. she shivers, tugs nervously on her satin glove. she has a purse clutched under her arm. while the dress is a knockout, it's not quite practical, and she can't exactly hide anything in her stilettos either. she carries her id, some cash, and a lone pokeball. call her crazy, call her paranoid, but she couldn't leave her dingy motel room without knowing she had someone to rely on should things turn south. and with the state of sinnoh as of right now, there's no telling what could happen, especially at an event like this.
eyes wander over the ball's patrons. she'd be hard pressed to say she was here to enjoy herself. she's hungry and she's ambitious. she'd come here with nothing with the hopes that anything could happen, that fate could just once be kinder and swing open a door to opportunity. the last had been slammed in her face before she could utter a word.
and speaking of last opportunity. hazel eyes narrow when she spots a certain someone milling through the crowd. is it really? it takes her a moment to place him, stick a name to his face. summer boy. hair like the summer sun, that's what makes it click. she touches her fingertips to her cheek and then moves forward, sidles close, and holds her gloved hand out to him, fingers curled.
the cold's too much. weeks spent locked up in a cabin in snowpoint. he's had enough. the cold's one thing, but the isolation is what's getting to him. he's not a sociable person to begin with, but he needs some form of human interaction. between the walls and the linings of the floor he's gone through every small bit of detail in the room. he's always had a distraction, always had something to worry about.
he still does, but this form of isolation makes it seem like he's fine, safe. it's foolish of him to think so, but for once his guard's down. he lowers it enough to let himself believe that he's on another level, that nobody can touch him. not anymore. if anything he's tough, the scars on his body proves it. it shows in the way he walks, the way he approaches situations.
but he's still reckless, and maybe even a bit naive. he's dressed in black; the shirt, the jacket, all of it. even the mask on his face that resembles a zoroark, it rests comfortably on the bridge of his nose. he hates it, hates having to hide his face, hates that he has to constantly be looking over his shoulder. he's done that about ten times since he's arrived, and he knows he's doing it too much. he walks carefully along the side of the dance floor, avoids attention as hands hover over his pocket where his pokeballs are. the mask limits his peripherals, so he stops.
it's risky, but he does it anyways, slides the mask off his face for a moment to rub at his eyes. they sting, most likely from the lack of sleep. he finds it too unsettling, that everyone at this event has a mask on. he can't see their faces, can't read their expressions. he then remembers that they can't read his expressions too, and more importantly, can't recognize him.
then he hears his name, and he tenses. that voice. he remembers it, and when he sees her gloved hand he puts two and two together. the mask's already back on him and he wonders who else saw him. he glances left and right over his shoulders but again, can't tell if it's safe or not.
he doesn't bother to indulge her with words, instead takes her gloved hand, letting his fingers intertwine with hers before locking. he moves closer, other hand placing on her hip as he leads them onto the edge of the dance floor. it's close enough. nora. "i wasn't expecting to see a familiar face at this event." he looks at her through the mask on his face. he's tense because he knows the circumstances behind them, that he left her in galactic. "it's good to see you." a lie, but he still tries.
"did you get out?" he asks, whispers it under the music that haunts the hall.
"ha, familiar." she brushes her fingertips against the nose of his mask before neatly fitting her hand neatly on his shoulder. he's familiar to her because he's one of her not-lovers, a man who'd bid her farewell and turned his back before she'd even toyed with the idea of hitching up her skirt. he was supposed to be her in, her leg up, nothing more than a use, but after their so-called meeting, he'd dropped off the face of the earth. for a couple of weeks, she wondered if he'd died.
and then there were whispers around galactic that one of their heads had switched sides. he knows too much. so how enigmatic to see the hunted amidst the hunters. surely they're here, rangers and galactic alike. she's puzzled by his warmness, though on their next turn, she closes more of the distances between them all the same. the beak of her mask brushes against the cheek of his own, a not-quite kiss that reflects in a false light in her eyes.
"spare me the pleasantries, stranger." a shiver lances down her when his breath curls in her ear. her fingers tighten in his, the only giveaway of her discomfort. but she doesn't cringe. her lips draw in a smirk. "out? why, darling, i'm still begging to be let in." how preposterous to think she'd want to leave the very people who are protecting her. she's hidden from the public eye under the guise of their uniformity. she is not nora albern, she is galactic, the embodiment of their ideals, a catastrophic vessel and nothing more. no past, present, or future. no name, nothing. and nothing, as she's come to find, can't be harmed.
"have you really escaped? was it worth it?" bodies sift and seethe around them and they weave between them. her discomfort lessens when it's clear his hand has no inclination to stray from her hip and oddly enough, she relaxes, sinks into the moment while an airy laugh passes through parted lips. "you never told me you could dance." she lowers her voice on their next pass, twirls away from him and comes back with a wan smile. "then again, you never told me much."
"stranger? that's a bit cold, even if i do deserve it." broken promises, weightless words, there's nothing he can do to redeem himself, to justify his actions; he knows he deserves to be treated this way. masks brush against each other as the gap between them closes. he slows his breathing. he's uncomfortable, he tenses when he feels her fingers tighten. they're too close. "that's a mistake." he speaks in soft whispers but the intensity carries. a step left, forward, he moves with the rhythm, with each resounding beat of the music.
"it's not too late. you can still get out cleanly." he speaks out of assumption. he has no idea what business she's had with galactic, if she's still a grunt, if she's been ordered to hunt him down. it isn't likely, but the possibility's still there and concern lingers at the back of his mind. he's cautious, wary of anything she might attempt because even if he trusted her before, he can't now, not when she's still in galactic.
he lets her question linger in the air as they move against the flow of the crowd. he might have gotten out, but at what cost? he's not free, not when he constantly has to look behind his back. "no." her laugh helps lessen the tension or at least helps calm him down. it steals him away from his worries even if only for a few moments. movements start to feel more natural, more synchronised. a twirl, a pull, a hand finds its way back onto her hip. this time it's him who closes the distance, leans forward and tilts his head to whisper past her ear.
"i never told anyone." the song soon transitions into a much slower one and he's glad; his left leg's starting to give in, and it's noticeable when every left step he takes is slower, limped. he pulls his head back and hovers it directly in front of hers, the short nose of the mask makes it possible to keep a close distance. the side of his lips arch up as he nods. "i'll make up for it." the hand on her hip pushes as he leads her further into the crowd. noise starts to dilute in the background.
"get out? why, haven't you heard? people are dying to get in?" she chuckles to herself, feigns a brief cloud of confusion. "or am i getting that mixed up with graveyards?" maybe it's the same thing, she doesn't know. liam sure looks like he's risen from the dead, with the dark circles under his eyes and the haggard look to his face. she wants to scoff when he tells her it's a mistake. he doesn't understand, but she's not the kind of person to make someone understand. so she just nods wistfully and gives him this look that says, you'll never know anything, least of all me.
she's privy to her surroundings and it doesn't take her too long to notice his limp. the fluidity of his motions wanes, but she makes up for it with her own grace, covers more ground with her own footsteps to give him a rest. he starts to drift from the crowd, but she clucks her tongue to the roof of her mouth, draws him back. "you should know that secrets are best spoken in crowds." she cranes her neck back, chin lifting delicately as her gaze shifts to the side. "look at them. dark with their own intentions. the ones on the edge of the crowd are the more dangerous ones." she twirls then, peers past him now. "you have a lot of enemies now, don't you, summers? we're being watched."
she thumbs the side of his neck as she sways from side to side, body curling inwards as if she can protect him from the prying eyes of others. but it's for her own sake, because he's offering up information without her even having to bribe. "i'm always in the dark. i'm not stupid. i know there's something going on." her teeth dimple her lower lip as she smiles. "and when shit hits the fan, i'd like to think i could use it to my advantage."
1. PLEASE BE KIND AND WELCOMING TO EVERYONE.
2. NO ADVERTISING; PLEASE USE THE APPROPRIATE BOARD.
3. PLEASE KEEP THE CONVERSATION POSITIVE; DO NOT RANT.
SINNOH the roleplay was created by the combined effort of NOODLES and LAKE.
The current skin was created by PHARAOH LEAP OF WICKED WONDERLAND.
All site content belongs to its creators unless stated otherwise, and stealing will not be tolerated. Thank you.
