Fickle Winds [Varnock]

[Mason]

Water, water, water. It’s what this city is known for, he knew, but in the years since Mason had been to Cerulean, the meaning of that had changed not-so-slightly. “Water” turned to “Polluted Water” in an effort at industrialization, which the man couldn’t exactly blame the Lux leaders for, (it was wartime after all), yet it still left a bitter taste in his mouth.  Floral Lagoon City indeed. He walked down the stone streets under an overcast sky, bracing against the occasional gust of wind and glancing every so often at the filthy water, even though he knew he had more important things to worry about.

Like sentinels, for one. Mason was confident in his anonymity, but the difference between confidence and carelessness is always very small. But at the very least, this place hadn’t turned into a ghost town like so many others. There were people on the streets, enough that the man didn’t look out of place. And better yet, they seemed discontent. It made his job a bit easier - when people are forced to change their way of life, what follows is rarely pleasant.

He had been sent to observe Cerulean for a short while, and so far what Mason had seen was promising. The spy doubted things were in a worse condition than in Saffron, but any amount of unrest helped. And he felt slightly bad for thinking so - Mason remembered the destruction of Olivine all too well. Enemy or not, he wouldn’t wish that burden on anyone.

But there were things to be done, and the time for questions ought to be when you are kept awake at night by your thoughts, and not in the middle of a busy street. Mason veered off of the stone pavement, just narrowly avoiding a collision with someone else as he mumbled a hasty apology. He stopped in front of a small bench that stood at the edge of a grassy clearing, facing a fountain which likely had some of the cleanest water for miles. It would be a good place to sit and listen to the hustle and bustle of the city for a while. Or just relax. His tired feet had been aching for a while now, protesting at every step. Traveling was messy business.

Mason sat down and placed his backpack next to him. He figured it wouldn't be a bad time to read that travel brochure he had picked up a few towns over - they were usually quite over the top, which got on his nerves a bit - but every once in awhile you could learn something interesting.

At least, if the wind would cooperate. Just as he dug it out, a particularly strong gust blew the folded paper back towards the street. “Wait!” Mason called, annoyed, as if the thing would actually stop and heed his words. Reluctantly, he grabbed his backpack and left the comfortable bench, starting after the brochure which was still tumbling in the wind.

[Varnock]

Brandon looked about carefully as he walked. He wasn't really trying to keep an eye on everything at once like he used to when forced into Kanto, but the habit had stuck with him. He just always got a bit nervous when he came to this region, though the same feeling he had gotten around eastern Johto had gone away at least. Still, there were several cities in Kanto he actually enjoyed visiting prior to all this. Back then Cerulean shined with water, a place of beauty rather than the beginnings of an industrial waste dump.

He quite hated what this war had done to so many of the places that actually held beauty in this world. Even more so though, he hated that there was so little he could do. One man, no matter how many plans he created, was not enough to push this war towards its finish. Perhaps Palmer would help, but that was still just two men, even if they were both in positions of moderate power.

All the same though, inland Kanto hadn't taken things nearly as badly as most of the rest of the world. Lux had a firm hold here, and they had no intents of loosening that grip any time soon. He could at least take solace in the fact that things ought to remain much more solid, and less like piles of rubble, than Hoenn or Johto had.

He actually wasn't sure why he had stopped here. The day was still young, and he had to make his way closer to Johto still. Hopefully he could find a boat slipping back off towards Sinnoh from there. He would go through Vermillion, but with the recent conquest of Seafoam the ocean had gotten more and more dangerous on this end of things. At least with Nox they would likely have some protection from the Hoenn Navy.

It was then that something darted towards him, it looked like some colorful paper, and prompted a reaction. His arm shot out in an attempt to grab it, missed much to his annoyance, and the paper landed solidly in his face. He grabbed it with a frown, then a chuckle. The situation was quite ridiculous, almost as much so as the pamphlet itself. These things were barely worth kindling.

He glanced around for who could possibly be the owner, his eyes settling on one person with a large backpack that appeared to have been heading towards the brochure before it had collided with him so unceremoniously. He held it in one hand, the other pointing to it as he looked towards the man with a questioning expression. It was likely his, but if not it would be going in the first bin of trash he found.

"Drop something?" His face held a smile as he said it, the situation really rather humorous.

[Mason]

He couldn’t decide whether to laugh or apologize first - and instead began to wonder how often strangers met because of a travel brochure. Figuring it wasn’t very common, Mason paled a bit as the pamphlet hit the other man in the face, hoping he wasn’t in a hurry because if he had learned one thing about people in all his years, it was not to interrupt someone when they’re in a hurry..

Thankfully the stranger seemed not to mind, and Mason returned his questioning expression with a nod. “Ah… yeah. Thank you.” He said with a bit of a nervous smile as he approached. “It’s probably not worth much, but you never know.” Mason looked down at his feet for a moment after he spoke - an old habit.

But a thought occurred to him just as he was about to take back the paper and leave. “Are you from here? I’ve been traveling around for awhile, and I was wondering about-” Mason paused, motioning over towards the filthy river, “-that. When did that happen?” It was sad. Memories of the crystal-clear water seemed impossible, unreal. And yet, there was too much on his mind to ask out of sadness or regret. Mason spoke of a river, but he was really asking about unrest. Discontent in Cerulean. How long ago did it start? How severe was it? That water had been the city’s source of pride, and destroying it was like destroying the heart of the city. An error on Lux’s part - perhaps a necessary one, but an error nonetheless.

Even as Mason spoke, he glanced at the brochure and tried to make out a word in big, colorful letters on the front. Sure, it likely wasn’t worth the paper that it was printed on, but simply having paper could be useful in a tight spot. Mason recalled having read one one about the Ruins of Alph years ago which made excellent kindling later on in the evening.