I write sins, not tragedies (alyssa)

[gold]

You say you hate it, but you can't really tell The future is smiling right at you. I'm not gonna make it, so you should save yourself. There's no time to tell you I'll miss you. ♕ wc » tags » ooc notes 441 alyssa I missed rping with you so much <3333

It's empty. Quiet, to the point of pain. And though he's never been here a day in his life, the landscape is familiar enough a sight that the images haunting him, like a ghost, still come rushing back. So it's happened again, has it? Something that the powerless world is unable to control, something that powerless people can only stand on the sidelines and watch, unable to do anything to change what's becoming known as reality. He trails his gaze to the sky, clenching and unclenching his hands in small movements by his side before remembering, at a light brush of a feather, that life is by his side. Gold digs around in his pocket, resurfacing with a pokeball in an instant, and recalls the creature without batting an eye. There's no time for giving thanks. Not when he can't even apologize to them enough for what they go through for him. Honestly, he's not sure why he's here. He's supposed to be back at Johto, helping those that are still fighting, those that still haven't given up (like he has). The thought lingers there a moment, hovering, then he winces and pushes it aside, taking a step forward. There's not much of this place left, a couple of crumbling cores of buildings that are falling apart at the seams. When he takes another step closer, even that illusion shatters, leaving behind nothing but rock formations and dust, billowing in gusts as the wind blows past. Particles of sand bite and sting at his eyes, and almost out of habit, Gold grabs his goggles and pulls them over his eyes. Part of the right lens is cracked, an ugly thing - yet he hasn't bothered to fix it because it's an ugly reminder of what he's done, in the past. It's looser than before, so he pulls his hands behind his head to tighten the strap, - he's started wearing gloves, too, he has - scowling. His head seems to have shrunk. Funny, how things change. After everything's adjusted and in place, the surroundings are a bit clearer - blurry on his right side, but manageable, and he breaks his step into wide strides, tracing his hands over the rocks and caves that have formed in the time past. There's water dripping somewhere, steadily, but it seems to be all around him, and he can't place the exact location. All he can do it see what's happening with the reconstruction, and how much damage has really been done, how much he can help with. Gold's finger brushes over something sharp, and the fabric tears, not quite breaking skin. He frowns. He really shouldn't be here.

[alyssa]

[attr="class","iconmain"] [attr="class","iconsub"] [attr="class","headers"]→ notes 408 words [attr="class","iconsubtwo"] [attr="class","headers"]→ tags BATTLE as gold [attr="class","iconsub"] [attr="class","headers"]→ other these are what you call words The sea waves crashing against the sides of the island penetrate the empty mind of Hoenn’s Leader. It echoes into the quiet dusk, and pulls her consciousness back to the surface – back to the world she can’t avoid forever, no matter how hard she may try. Even if she does avoid it for a time, the fantasy she creates can only be too-easily shattered by the vicious wrath of reality which may come in the form of a mere knock at the door of her office. There’s no door here, though. No knock to come. However, the quiet flap of wings had been responsible this time. Blue eyes scanned the pink-orange sky, taking note of a black silhouette descending toward a portion of the island not far from where the Leader was seated. On the edge of the building being reconstructed from the ground up, she’s a one-hundred-foot drop from the ocean below. She picks herself up, hopping down to safe ground before picking her way through the “new” to replace the old. To replace what had been destroyed little more than one year ago. Silently she descends toward Victory Road, through the building being reconstructed, and practically through time itself. It’s a subtle transition from the fresh-laid stone to the shattered, blackened things that once stood and now lay strewn across their earthen bed. What would be the “ground floor” of Hoenn’s League Hall opens before her, and Alyssa picks her way through the rubble, advancing toward the figure she now sees – the one that had been carried in by their pokemon. Wind blows, tossing up dust and dirt and grit into the sky and buffeting the Leader as her advance remains unhindered, merely an arm rising to shield Alyssa’s eyes until it does down. Once the figure becomes clear in the dimming light she stops. Jaw slacks slightly with disbelief, the light reflected in her eyes a mix of confusion, surprise, and bitter happiness at the sight of the boy – …no… The war had forced him to become a man – Before her. The Lieutenant that had pledged his service to her until her Region was free. The Lieutenant whose undying loyalty had been rewarded with her sending him to his home Region after it was viciously assaulted by Nox terrorists. Her weak breath passed through pallid lips as she spoke, hoping this wasn’t just some unkind illusion played by her desire to see him again. ”…Gold…”

[attr="class","lyrics"]→ no matter how many deaths that I die I will never forget

coded by battlerocket for kane only

[newclass=.iconmain]transition: 0.5s; -webkit-transition: 0.5s; -o-transition: 0.5s; float: right; margin-left: 5px; width: 100px; height: 100px; overflow: hidden;[/newclass][newclass=.iconmain:hover]transition: 0.5s; -webkit-transition: 0.5s; -o-transition: 0.5s; float: right; margin-left: 5px; width: 210px; height: 205px;[/newclass][newclass=.iconsub]float: right; height: 18px; width: 96px; overflow: hidden; margin: 0 7px -110px 0; -moz-transition: 0.7s; -webkit-transition: 0.7s; -o-transition: 0.7s; opacity: .5; -moz-opacity: .5; -o-opacity: .5; -ms-opacity: .5; filter:alpha(opacity=50); background-color: #000000; color: #ffffff; padding: 2px; font-size: 10px; font-family:helvetica;[/newclass][newclass=.iconsub:hover]height: 96px; -moz-transition: 0.7s; -webkit-transition: 0.7s; -o-transition: 0.7s; opacity: .8; -moz-opacity: .8; -o-opacity: .8; -ms-opacity: .8; filter:alpha(opacity=80);[/newclass][newclass=.iconsubtwo]float: right; height: 18px; width: 96px; overflow: hidden; margin: 0 110px -110px 0; -moz-transition: 0.7s; -webkit-transition: 0.7s; -o-transition: 0.7s; opacity: .5; -moz-opacity: .5; -o-opacity: .5; -ms-opacity: .5; filter:alpha(opacity=50); background-color: #000000; color: #ffffff; padding: 2px; font-size: 10px; font-family:helvetica;[/newclass][newclass=.iconsubtwo:hover]height: 96px; -moz-transition: 0.7s; -webkit-transition: 0.7s; -o-transition: 0.7s; opacity: .8; -moz-opacity: .8; -o-opacity: .8; -ms-opacity: .8; filter:alpha(opacity=80);[/newclass][newclass=.lyrics]-moz-transition: 0.7s; -webkit-transition: 0.7s; -o-transition: 0.7s; font-size: 14px; font-family: ms gothic; text-transform: uppercase; width: 450px; height: 15px; overflow: hidden; letter-spacing: -1px;[/newclass][newclass=.lyrics:hover]-moz-transition: 0.7s; -webkit-transition: 0.7s; -o-transition: 0.7s; background-color: #000000; color: #ffffff[/newclass][newclass=.headers]font-size: 14px; font-family: ms gothic; text-transform: uppercase;[/newclass]

[gold]

You say you hate it, but you can't really tell The future is smiling right at you. I'm not gonna make it, so you should save yourself. There's no time to tell you I'll miss you. ♕ wc » tags » ooc notes 465 alyssa <3

The fabric on the glove is completely torn, thread exploding out of the leather like blood as it tangles around the sand that's gotten it from the new, half-baked buildings that came from the reconstruction effort. Gold raises it up to the sky, towards where the sun's weak glows are poking through some clouds and frowns, fussing at the tear with his free hand and making plans to get it replaced, asap. He hasn't got time to get it fixed. Too many things to do. So much to catch up on. His new schedule doesn't permit trivialities, and he follows it strictly, now, because he's learned what happens when you stray off the path, and he's learned the hard way. There's no room for mistakes because the new world doesn't permit them. Some things, he's learned, never change (like his own weakness, seeping through the cracks and layers that he's draped on himself these past years he's been gone - ), and when a voice shatters the silence, he doesn't turn around because he's too afraid she'll see what he's become. Instead, he takes a moment to compose himself, taking in a few breaths that seem to last forever, just hanging there. And yet, when its over, he finds himself still unable to turn around and meet her eyes, face to face, like they used to. He's not supposed to be here. She told him that he's not supposed to be here. Yet here he is, at the highest peak that used to mean so much to challengers like himself, but only serves to be a reminder at this point. What will she say? What will she think? He's gotten good at listening to voices and remembering, but judging their tone is still beyond him (some things really never change, he cracks a smile at that one, but only briefly). There's nothing left to do after he's tried. For some people, it works, but there's no telling with people that he knows, and this time serves to be no different from all the rest. Part of him wants to turn around and tell her to leave, but this is different from unanswered phone calls and texts, something that just closing the lid of a phone won't fix. There'll be questions. He doesn't want to hurt her, but it seems that it's inevitable, so he might as well get it over with. Gold whirls his head around, blinking behind his goggles before moving them to their normal position again, a nuisance. "Hey." He doesn't say her name. He's afraid if he does, he'll crack, like he always does. The greeting, however, stays the same, unchanging. He's said it so many times he doesn't even remember to who, and when. Gold swallows, licks his lips, but continues, ghosting over the words. "I came back."

[alyssa]

[attr="class","iconmain"] [attr="class","iconsub"] [attr="class","headers"]→ notes 546 words [attr="class","iconsubtwo"] [attr="class","headers"]→ tags BATTLE as GOLD [attr="class","iconsub"] [attr="class","headers"]→ other these are what you call words When his back remains turned to her, she feels a familiar pang of disappointment in her chest. It's like the times in the past year and a half that she's dreamed the Lieutenant was a part of her life once more. His departure had been painful for her, and the muted loss she felt with him gone had only came into fruition while she slept. And it's always the same. The pain from loss is enough to make her reach out at any illusion she has of him, in spite of knowing it's something fake. In spite of knowing she'll be disappointed when her fingers lay against his form for only a heartbeat before slipping through his chest into nothingness. Perhaps it's punishment. Perhaps it's what she's brought upon herself, being cursed with the hallucination of somebody dear to her being only an arm's length away before they vanish into nothingness, to await the day she truly sees him again. She only has to deal with the torment of knowing that she's the one that drove him away - the one that ordered it. Before that time, the leader had never ordered her Lieutenant to do anything. It had always been an understanding between them Sometimes to the point of mere silence and one look into his flaxen eyes - bright and optimistic - for him to understand her intentions and carry them out. That time though, she'd ordered him. He'd refused. She'd yelled. He'd still refused. Then she'd slapped him. Laid her hand against his face harshly and cried her words to him. Her words to tell him to aid his home region after its calamity, in spite of the war's worst in the region he'd pledged allegiance to when he gave his loyalty and service to her. Since then, there had been nothing but unanswered calls to him, and painful dreams haunting her each night. What Alyssa had almost accepted as an illusion by this point shatters to fragments when he moved. That never happened. ...he spoke. Words caught in her throat when she heard his voice again, looked into his eyes to see the light had faded from them. Now he looked haunted, like the weight of what he'd seen had dimmed the person he had been. Slowly begun to kill the energetic person he once was. In spite of it all in the changing world, he had kept his light, and held up the same light for his leader when hers had been lost. Now Golds, too, had faded. Her cold eyes soften. He's one of the few people to see the blue behind the ice she faces everybody with. Now he would be able to see water glaze over that same ice, spurred by painful heartbeats against her ribs. Wary steps draw her forward to him slowly. Botos clack against broken earth until she stands before him, the same arm's length from him that her prior illusions had allowed her to stand. Pale digits reach forward cautiously, reaching to rest against his chest, to confirm he's real. That he's there. To see if her longing nightmare has finally broken into a reality. "Is it..." The Leader inhales, voice catching in her throat, reducing it to a whisper. "...is it really you?"

[attr="class","lyrics"]→ no matter how many deaths that I die I will never forget

coded by battlerocket for kane only

[newclass=.iconmain]transition: 0.5s; -webkit-transition: 0.5s; -o-transition: 0.5s; float: right; margin-left: 5px; width: 100px; height: 100px; overflow: hidden;[/newclass][newclass=.iconmain:hover]transition: 0.5s; -webkit-transition: 0.5s; -o-transition: 0.5s; float: right; margin-left: 5px; width: 210px; height: 205px;[/newclass][newclass=.iconsub]float: right; height: 18px; width: 96px; overflow: hidden; margin: 0 7px -110px 0; -moz-transition: 0.7s; -webkit-transition: 0.7s; -o-transition: 0.7s; opacity: .5; -moz-opacity: .5; -o-opacity: .5; -ms-opacity: .5; filter:alpha(opacity=50); background-color: #000000; color: #ffffff; padding: 2px; font-size: 10px; font-family:helvetica;[/newclass][newclass=.iconsub:hover]height: 96px; -moz-transition: 0.7s; -webkit-transition: 0.7s; -o-transition: 0.7s; opacity: .8; -moz-opacity: .8; -o-opacity: .8; -ms-opacity: .8; filter:alpha(opacity=80);[/newclass][newclass=.iconsubtwo]float: right; height: 18px; width: 96px; overflow: hidden; margin: 0 110px -110px 0; -moz-transition: 0.7s; -webkit-transition: 0.7s; -o-transition: 0.7s; opacity: .5; -moz-opacity: .5; -o-opacity: .5; -ms-opacity: .5; filter:alpha(opacity=50); background-color: #000000; color: #ffffff; padding: 2px; font-size: 10px; font-family:helvetica;[/newclass][newclass=.iconsubtwo:hover]height: 96px; -moz-transition: 0.7s; -webkit-transition: 0.7s; -o-transition: 0.7s; opacity: .8; -moz-opacity: .8; -o-opacity: .8; -ms-opacity: .8; filter:alpha(opacity=80);[/newclass][newclass=.lyrics]-moz-transition: 0.7s; -webkit-transition: 0.7s; -o-transition: 0.7s; font-size: 14px; font-family: ms gothic; text-transform: uppercase; width: 450px; height: 15px; overflow: hidden; letter-spacing: -1px;[/newclass][newclass=.lyrics:hover]-moz-transition: 0.7s; -webkit-transition: 0.7s; -o-transition: 0.7s; background-color: #000000; color: #ffffff[/newclass][newclass=.headers]font-size: 14px; font-family: ms gothic; text-transform: uppercase;[/newclass]

[gold]

You say you hate it, but you can't really tell The future is smiling right at you. I'm not gonna make it, so you should save yourself. There's no time to tell you I'll miss you. ♕ wc » tags » ooc notes 474 alyssa <3

At first, he can't meet her eyes, so he focuses on her lips instead, sound blurring in his ears to something impossible to make out. It doesn't feel right, this - she's his leader, and he's realized that, in the past, when they look into each other's eyes and understand what the other wants, it's been wrong. Wrong to assume what she wants from him, wrong to push his own assumptions onto her, wrong to think of himself as someone who can truly understand others. And he's never been terribly good at lip reading, himself, but even he can understand what she's saying - or not saying, rather - at this point. One thing, he understands clearly, though - she is a leader. His leader. And a leader commands respect. The fabric of his gloves scratches his cheek as he brushes over it, and he immediately regrets the gesture. It's a reminder of his failure to comprehend orders. This has nothing to do with her, nothing to do with the situation at hand. Still, it stings like it was only yesterday, and he grits his teeth, lowering his hand almost immediately, and the burning ceases just like that. Memories used to be blissful reminders of the past, when things were so much simpler than they were now. But lately, he's felt like they're nothing but burdens, worthy of being shed so that he doesn't cling on in that almost desperate way he did before. She should say something. Burn a new memory into his mind. He wants her to yell at him like she did back then, because that means that things are still okay, but she doesn't. Instead, she takes a step forward. Part of him wants to take a step back, but he feels like he owes her, so he stays still, gaze never trailing past the bridge of her nose or under the sharp curve of her chin. When he feels pressure on his chest, Gold flinches, and jerks back, reflexively, his head snapping up to meet her eyes (it's just like back then, a hand on his chest, but there's no sobs this time, the sky murky and foggy but not smoking, like it was back then). Too real, he realizes, and steps back. All too real. Can he face it? They're blue - he can't decide what's bluer, the tears that bud at the edges or her eyes themselves -, bluer than he remembers them being. He coughs, tries to turn his head away but doesn't, because habits are harder to break than he is, and there's something about shying away from things that makes his stomach curl in the most unpleasant of ways. Gold swallows, hard. "I know I'm not supposed to be here." He says, biting his lip, searching her expression. "It was...an order." An order that he blatantly disobeyed. And he still has to wonder: What does she feel about this?

[alyssa]

[attr="class","iconmain"] [attr="class","iconsub"] [attr="class","headers"]→ notes 504 words [attr="class","iconsubtwo"] [attr="class","headers"]→ tags BATTLE as GOLD [attr="class","iconsub"] [attr="class","headers"]→ other these are what you call words She can feel her heart pound in her chest as her fingertips near the red jacket he wears, as though she’s afraid to physically contact him as she’s tried so many times in her dream. As though she’s afraid this, too, will be a dream in spite of everything she knows to combat that logic. It’s a dream she doesn’t want to escape from. She stifles a wavering breath and forces herself to reach the final distance, for the tips of her leather gloves to brush against his chest. A tense breath is inhaled through her lips when she makes contact, even for the briefest time before he flinches, pulling away. Her eyes haven’t moved in the time she’s taken to brush her fingers against his chest, and when his eyes finally rise to meet hers, she feels her gut twist with an awful sense of guilt wash over her as she looks into his eyes for the first time in years. His gaze is higher, now. Higher than it was when they were driven apart by her own desperation to see her Lieutenant do what she knew he wanted. Her hand wavers in the air before it falls back to her side, limp and useless, as though a mere touch had electrified her. The water that flowed over her eyes cracks the ice hidden behind it when she blinks, sending the tears over the dam that she’d sworn to fortify. In spite of the strong face she can hold in even the most tense of situations, even laugh off a serious conversation as though it’s a perfect joke told over an alcoholic beverage, he is a person her barriers fall for. He is someone her iron gates melt before, allowing the traces of true emotion she feels to be brought to the surface and made visible for all those to see. Tears roll down her pale cheeks and a pained smile pulls at her lips. Sapphire eyes are pulled away from his golden ones, a weak laugh escaping her tight lungs. ”It really is you…” Her gaze locks with his again, a renewed intensity in them they had lacked only seconds earlier, an intensity brought about by the sheer relief and happiness in her entire being to see this man again, in spite of the pain she can see in his eyes from what the war has done to him. ”…you…” Her arms begin to shake and Alyssa swallows thickly, two more tears following those that had spilled only seconds earlier. ”…you’re never…’not supposed to be here’.” came the words at last. ”Even if I…o-order it.” The memory of the event chills her heart, twists her stomach so fiercely the Leader feels she may be sick here on the spot. ”You’re always welcome here, Gold Harberlein. I thought…” A gloved hand rises to her cheek and wipes the tears off. The wavering voice drops to an ashamed whisper, knowing she’s to blame for his words. ”…I thought you would never return.”

[attr="class","lyrics"]→ no matter how many deaths that I die I will never forget

coded by battlerocket for kane only

[newclass=.iconmain]transition: 0.5s; -webkit-transition: 0.5s; -o-transition: 0.5s; float: right; margin-left: 5px; width: 100px; height: 100px; overflow: hidden;[/newclass][newclass=.iconmain:hover]transition: 0.5s; -webkit-transition: 0.5s; -o-transition: 0.5s; float: right; margin-left: 5px; width: 210px; height: 205px;[/newclass][newclass=.iconsub]float: right; height: 18px; width: 96px; overflow: hidden; margin: 0 7px -110px 0; -moz-transition: 0.7s; -webkit-transition: 0.7s; -o-transition: 0.7s; opacity: .5; -moz-opacity: .5; -o-opacity: .5; -ms-opacity: .5; filter:alpha(opacity=50); background-color: #000000; color: #ffffff; padding: 2px; font-size: 10px; font-family:helvetica;[/newclass][newclass=.iconsub:hover]height: 96px; -moz-transition: 0.7s; -webkit-transition: 0.7s; -o-transition: 0.7s; opacity: .8; -moz-opacity: .8; -o-opacity: .8; -ms-opacity: .8; filter:alpha(opacity=80);[/newclass][newclass=.iconsubtwo]float: right; height: 18px; width: 96px; overflow: hidden; margin: 0 110px -110px 0; -moz-transition: 0.7s; -webkit-transition: 0.7s; -o-transition: 0.7s; opacity: .5; -moz-opacity: .5; -o-opacity: .5; -ms-opacity: .5; filter:alpha(opacity=50); background-color: #000000; color: #ffffff; padding: 2px; font-size: 10px; font-family:helvetica;[/newclass][newclass=.iconsubtwo:hover]height: 96px; -moz-transition: 0.7s; -webkit-transition: 0.7s; -o-transition: 0.7s; opacity: .8; -moz-opacity: .8; -o-opacity: .8; -ms-opacity: .8; filter:alpha(opacity=80);[/newclass][newclass=.lyrics]-moz-transition: 0.7s; -webkit-transition: 0.7s; -o-transition: 0.7s; font-size: 14px; font-family: ms gothic; text-transform: uppercase; width: 450px; height: 15px; overflow: hidden; letter-spacing: -1px;[/newclass][newclass=.lyrics:hover]-moz-transition: 0.7s; -webkit-transition: 0.7s; -o-transition: 0.7s; background-color: #000000; color: #ffffff[/newclass][newclass=.headers]font-size: 14px; font-family: ms gothic; text-transform: uppercase;[/newclass]

[gold]

You say you hate it, but you can't really tell The future is smiling right at you. I'm not gonna make it, so you should save yourself. There's no time to tell you I'll miss you. ♕ wc » tags » ooc notes 529 alyssa omg i'm sorry for the late reply ;u; I'll convert the rest of my posts into this template tomorrow. <3

Her breath is sharp as his movements, inhaling and holding it there with the plethora of meanings and questions, seeking answers. Judging, as it's come and gone, still isn't his forte - is she upset? Disappointed? - but he braces himself, tensing slightly and waiting for the same, biting tone that she opted with him that time, like the worst case of de ja vu. When the seconds tick by, and nothing changes, he lifts his head from where he's lowered it, expecting her to be staring at him with anger smoldering in her gaze, or just gone (and can he accept that, he wonders?). He's not expecting tears, but they're there, as real as the cloudy sky and the ground beneath his feet, and it's suddenly too real, much too real for his liking, and, desperate for something to do, he bite his lower lip hard enough to draw blood. His heart's pounding hard now, blood rushing to his ears. Part of him whispers that it's like last time, but this time is different - different people, different circumstances, different him. This time, instead of pulling closer, like he wants to, Gold hesitates, running his hands through his hair, trying to get the words out without it seeming like he's just dragged them from the depths of his vocal chords. It's his fault she's like this, just like it was his fault before, but he still doesn't know how to fix it. She shouldn't be crying. Shouldn't be crying over someone like him. Some part of him - that impulsive part that's stayed hidden and dormant all this time - steps forward, and he wraps his arms around her briefly before pulling back, blinking his eyes and expecting tears of his own, surprised when he finds none. She cried for him too, back then, and its a curse that he has, something that affects everyone he touches and comes into contact with. He doesn't want Alyssa to fall into that same curse, but the promise that he made her still stays strong, and even if he has to do it from a distance, he's staying until the end. The words don't come out, though - there's something (emotions? bile?) blocking his throat, and he has to swallow hard for it to dislodge. "...I tried to stay there." It was supposed to be Johto, his mind curses, but he can't get the name out. Johto is not the Johto he knows, so why should he keep calling it that? "But I planned on coming back, always." And it's probably best, he reasons, not to tell about what happened in Johto, because it'll only make things worse than they already are, and those are his problems, not hers. Besides, the tears have stopped now. That's the way it's supposed to be. There's still a primal urge he has to pull away, but he fights it this time, raising his head to meet her eyes, pupils searching for tears, the emotions flickering in the pit of his gut like sparks. "I made you a promise." He licks his lips (they're chapped again, always chapped). "I plan on staying here until the very end. I'm not going back."