Johtomoonfest2024 - Tumblr Posts

Oh, she does want to enter the Johto Moon Festival's Moon Maiden competition....With a very different take on what's considered to be feminine beauty.

ADOPT + Airi or Isamu

ADOPTION BAZAR // @forjustice

All that was needed was a simple signature, a transfer of Pokeballs and the little fluffy kitten was handed over to Volo.

"Have a good life with Airi!"

[Johto Moon Festival '24] KIBBYYYYYYYYY

The moment he heard there was going to be an adoption bazaar, he was on his way--much to the dismay of all but one of the 18 Pokémon there. See, the thing about you and almost your entire family being draconic kitsune is that just about every other Pokémon either is scared of you (prey species and small predators) or wants to fight you (larger predators); you kind of have to take whatever Pokémon take you, so you can't pass up any chance to meet a new one. He rolled up with that sweet little grin on his face which no human can resist, but seventeen of the prospective new companions could still sense the fangs behind his smile. The small, soft ones cried out and bounced away, while the Nidorino and Nidorina stood their ground and hissed. The attendant looked at him like they didn't know what just happened, but with enough suspicion in their gaze for him to want to put their mind at ease.

"Rest easy. I'm a Pokésouled. Not every Pokémon likes that," he said, taking off his hat to reveal a pair of fox ears that he had shapeshifted into place. This seemed to appease the attendant enough to let him draw closer, but they still looked slightly askance at him, like maybe he was a full kitsune wanting one of their Pokémon for malicious mischief.

"I'm here for a Pokémon, obviously," he added. "The question is, will any Pokémon have me?"

A soft meow by one of the cutest little Skitties he's ever seen answered his question. The Shiny Galarian Rapidash-Skitty hybrid ran toward him on her tiny legs, fluffy tail and small mane bouncing as she squealed with excitement. Airi ran between the volunteer and Volo, posing and announcing her presence with a "nya!" The proud, fearless look on her face said it all: I'm an apex predator too!

"There's my answer." He smiled, and laughed as the tiny kitten stood and put her paws on his leg. He scooped up the little bundle of joy in his right hand, and signed the adoption papers with his left.

---------

"LOOK! LOOK! GRAMPA'S GOT A KITTEN!"

He doesn't even need to get close to his descendants before they start pelting toward him. Tovah and Dulce get a few curious stares as they run squealing toward Volo with the newest addition to their family in his arms; Islwyn, the shy one, is completely quiet, but he sprints to keep up with them nonetheless. When the two groups meet in the middle of the festival grounds, the girls start cooing at Airi, running their hands through her extra soft fur.

"It's a unicorn!" Dulce cries, bouncing up and down as the kitty goes 'nya!' and presses her face into the girl's.

"Where did you get her?" Tovah asks. "Can I get one too?"

"Her name is Airi," Volo says. "She belongs to all of us."

Islwyn fidgets, stimming with the hem of his shirt, before timidly stepping forward and reaching to pet the Pokémon with two fingers along her back.

"Come now, there's no need for that," Volo says, gently taking his hand and unfurling the other fingers so he can pet the kitten with his whole hand. He does so tentatively at first, then more confidently, and Airi begins to purr. She's not afraid of the big bad fox--or any of the little foxlings he constantly has with him!

The three children stroke the purring Skitty's fur, so focused on the precious creature that they fail to notice one of the grandmothers in Volo's central polycule approaching.

"Oh?" she says, raising an eyebrow curiously. "How did you manage to coax that one to you?"

"I didn't have to do any coaxing," Volo replies. "There was an adoption bazaar event at the festival, and I just had to go. The rest were spooked, but she actually came right up to me--with great enthusiasm, might I add. It was meant to be."

"She saw the red flags and thought they were the prettiest shade of green," Amaya jokes; he laughs and kisses her on the cheek. Then his wife reaches for the kitten, who bonks her hand with its head.

"I want to see all the other Pokémon," Tovah says. "Where are they?"

"This way." Volo begins walking back toward the center. "The adoption bazaar is only allowing one adoption per Trainer. But who knows. If they let us have another, I will let you three pick!"

Little do they know......>:3

ADOPT + Ditto

“OH MY GODS IT’S HANDSOME SQUIDWARD DITTO I—“

For a few moments Asteria is dying of laughter when she approaches and sees the strange faced shiny Ditto. How did the bazar train all of them to make the same face? Then she realizes…Maybe they were all bred that way, in which case as a Champion she has Questions about how they came to be, whether the breeding of the mutation that had caused their faces to look this way was ethical. Something that was funny for her in the moment could cause pain for the Pokémon, whether physical or emotional. It was likely not the fault of the adoption center though, the Johto Moon Festival was a well-respected event. As for the one responsible for these Ditto….She’ll let the Johto League know. They might have to have a word.

“…please excuse me,” she says, reverting her gaze to one less irreverent. “But I’d like to adopt one of the Ditto.”

Meanwhile Dulce, Tovah and Islwyn have arrived at the bazar, Amaya and Volo in tow.

“They’re…they’re….they’re beautiful!” Dulce cries, shedding a tear of joy. “Can we have one please?”

Volo smiles, amused, at the little girl’s reaction. But he’s proud of her too, for seeing the beauty in the unusual, for looking past the traditionally cute ones and choosing a Pokémon that might have gone overlooked.

ADOPT BAZAR HANDSOME DITTO EDITION // @forjustice

The Ditto were not in pain. In fact they relished the attention and the joy radiating off of the people who laughed. They brought a smile to your face? GOOD. The world deserved to bask in the joy and glory of their awesome handsomeness.

Truly these Ditto had no shortage of self confidence.

They could make themselves to be whatever they wished -- their truest selves, if you will. How many people can boast becoming what they felt like inside at a moment's notice? Not many. Thousands suffered because they felt like they had been born into the wrong body.

The Ditto that felt drawn to the family, gathered close to the fence, transforming into Machoke, posing for them in the hopes of being the ones picked. Look at them! Watch their glowing pride! Sure they are discarded because their use in contests in Unova was banned, but that was okay! They will thrive regardless in their new homes!

The papers for several Ditto were quickly signed.

"Have a good life with Handsome Ditto!"

[Johto Moon Festival '24] HANDSOME.

"GUYS GUYS COME HERE LOOK LOOK."

Asteria half-flies, half-sprints across the grass with a Tailwind behind her to add to her speed, catching the stares of everyone at the festival as her feet barely touch the ground. Behind her is a near-identical copy of her also using Tailwind, keeping up admirably as befitting an expert shapeshifter such as themselves. The group from Hoenn approaches curiously--and then bursts into gales of laughter once they see the copy of their best friend with a Handsome Squidward face.

"Is that you with a Handsome Squidward face?!" May cackles. "What in the world--"

"They're Ditto. They're literally a Handsome Squidward Ditto." Her sides are heaving--she's back to her initial laughter once she realized that the Ditto don't mind. The Ditto transforms back into their original form, looking very pleased with themself. No sooner are the Hoenn crew able to get a look than they transform into a Handsome Machoke, flexing their equally handsome biceps.

"Are you sure they're okay like that?" Brendan asks curiously. "The face doesn't look natural...."

"They are, of course, 'okay like that,'" Maxie says, never one to pass up the opportunity to be a know-it-all show off his vast knowledge. "Handsome Ditto are a highly sought after Contest-specialized subgroup of Ditto that have resulted from a natural mutation in the Ditto's base appearance. It's a little-known fact that Ditto, despite being most commonly believed to only have one type of face, can be born with many different types of faces; this is merely one of them, with its resemblance to the cartoon character known as 'Handsome Squidward' being an amusing coincidence. There has been a surge of 'Handsome Ditto' in shelters as of late, following the banning of their use in Unovan Contests. Perhaps this is where Asteria's new partner has come from."

"Well damn, Maxie, when did you become the expert on Handsome Squidwards?" Archie jokes, and Maxie rolls his eyes.

"He could be right, though," Wallace says. "This Ditto carries themself like they have Contest experience." He peers at the Ditto. "Do you?"

Handsome Ditto grins, its form slowly shifting into that of...Wallace with a Handsome face?!

"WHA--"

"Enough Contest experience that I can flawlessly imitate the great Wallace himself," Ditto says with a smirk, striking the Gym Leader's signature pose. Wallace stares, dumbfounded, as everybody else howls with laughter.

"You two should perform together," Asteria says, crying laughing at the shock on the older man's face.

"I......"

"Scared they'll upstage you?" Archie teases his nephew, waggling an eyebrow.

"We will share the stage as equals," says Wallace-Ditto, gesturing grandly toward him with an outstretched hand. "Or perhaps, do you think you're not skilled enough to match me~?"

The Pokémon makes an extra handsome face, looking like a photoshop meme that someone had made of Wallace on the Internet.

"....I need to lie down," Wallace mumbles, going to find some place to sit in the shade of the summer day.

[Johto Moon Festival '24] YOU CANNOT ESCAPE

"And the winner of the 2024 International Coordinating Festival is....Wallace Kassai!"

Wallace strides forward from the contestants' seats at the front of the auditorium, stepping up onto the stage and doing a flip of his hair as celebratory techno music blasts from the speakers and the crowd leaps to their feet with a standing ovation. The Festival hasn't happened yet--this is all a dream, which a highly trained Archchosen such as himself would be able to realize--but he's expecting to win this year so much that it's not as though he has the humility to become aware. He grins and waves to the sea of anonymous faces cloaked in the darkness, then reaches his hand forward to shake the award presenter's hand before receiving his trophy. But instead of taking his hand with a congratulatory smile, the announcer hesitates.

"Excuse me, sir," she says into the mic, "but I believe you're the wrong Wallace."

The crowd and the fanfare music immediately quiet as Wallace stares blankly at her.

"Pardon?" He raises an eyebrow.

"You're the wrong Wallace," she says, louder and more confidently than before.

"Excuse me, madam--" he can't keep the tension out of his voice--"but there is only one Wallace."

"I don't see why there should be." She speaks as though such a clueless and ill-informed statement were common sense.

"Well, who is this imposter of mine?" he huffs, crossing his arms. "Surely there must be some sort of a mistake by the judges, for a mere copy's mimicry of my art could only ever be inadequate. He won't have my charisma. He won't have my panache. And most importantly of all, he could never have the Wallace Touch. It's as I've said many times before. You can't outdo the doer. You can't outshine the shiner, you know--"

No sooner do the words leave his mouth than he sees a blurry dark-skinned figure emerge from the backstage entrance on the other side of the stage. He can't see the details of the imposter's face, but he can see they're his same height, they're in the same clothes, they've dyed their hair the same way--every inch a shadow of him, and he's expected to believe that this mere shadow managed to outshine his glorious light? The announcer holding the trophy turns toward the newcomer with the smile and the prize that should have been for him, beckoning them to quicken their pace. And then, as they draw closer, he sees the detail on their face--and it's at that point that the dream completes its slide down into a nightmare.

Oh no.

It's Handsome.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!"

He screams, but no one hears him. His shrieks are drowned out in the ecstatic roar of the crowd--even louder than the cheers had been for him--and the celebration techno music in the background roaring to life as well. The announcer's face transforms into a Handsome one as she shakes Handsome Ditto's hand and places the trophy in their arms; they blow Wallace's famously elegant kisses from their Handsome Squidward face as they lift the trophy in one hand and waive daintily like a royal with the other. Then the accursed Pokémon cranes their head toward him--and winks.

He screams even more loudly than before, but still he goes unheard. He looks desperately to the crowd--but their faces have all become Handsome as well, and his screams become so loud that if he were in the real world, he would have become both hoarse and deaf. The noise closes in on him from all sides, and In the almighty din, he can't tell where his terror and the crowd's jubilation begins and ends....

"Wallace. Wallace, are you okay?"

He awakes to a bright afternoon light in his eyes, his back a little sore from falling asleep at the roots of a great tree. He recognizes the voice of his husband, Steven Stone, and feels the presence of his QPP, Zinnia. He gathers that both are standing over him, perhaps having felt his distress from wherever they were at in the Moon Festival and going over to see if he was okay.

He has not, however, seen their faces.

"I am now," he says, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes. "I just had a bad dream."

"Oh, that sounds awful," Steven says, as Zinnia offers him a hand up.

"It was," he groans, taking his partner's hand--and she gives him the nastiest little chuckle before she speaks.

"It sure would be a shame...if your dream got even worse."

He finally looks up at his partners.

THEY HAVE HANDSOME FACES TOO.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO--!"

"Wallace! Wallace! Are you okay?!"

Steven cries out as he and Zinnia run toward Wallace, the "NOOOOOOOOOOOO" from his dream erupting into a Kyogre-like screech that echoes all across the Festival as the poor Archchosen jolts awake. As Wallace's partners approach, he backs himself up against the tree trunk he had fallen asleep against, his eyes wide with panic in the afternoon light. Between the dream that caused homesickness he had the other night and this one, he sure was having a lot of nightmares here in Johto. (Well, two isn't a lot, but it's two too many.)

"Please, no," he sputters. "Please tell me you're not--"

"Not what?" Zinnia looks quite concerned as she offers him her hand.

"Oh--I'm so sorry. I had the most awful dream," he says, heaving a sigh of relief as he notices that these are his real partners, neither of whom have Handsome Squidward faces. Ever aware of others' perceptions of him though, he hasn't failed to notice the small crowd that has gathered around his unmistakable Legendary scream. Great. He knows the press is going to be so, so unbearable about this already.

"What happened, man? Did we try to kill you in it or something?" Zinnia says, helping Wallace to his feet at which point he dusts himself off from the ground.

"Something like that," he sighs, for the truth is far too embarrassing for him to admit. Steven squints--he knows his husband isn't telling the truth--but being supremely discreet due to his upbringing, he doesn't want to pry.

"Oh, please, I know that's not it," Zinnia says, shaking her head. "Do you think I don't know you well enough not to know when you're lying to me?"

"I don't want to talk about it," he grumbles.

"Aw...You know I'm always a no-judgment zone--"

"I said, I don't want to talk about it." A low Kyogre-like growl creeps into his voice; gods know Zinnia wasn't always a no-judgment zone, even though she'd gotten better about it. The irritation goes away almost immediately, though, and he feels bad for having snapped.

"My apologies--I didn't mean to be so short with you," he says. "Shall we get ourselves some refreshments?"

As the three head off to find a booth containing some sort of sweet treat--hopefully some ice cream mochi or milk tea to cool off in the warm summer weather--Asteria's Handsome Ditto, in the form of Wallace, stands behind another nearby tree and smirks.

It knows.

It knows.

(Wallace's therapist: Handsome Ditto can't hurt you. Handsome Ditto: >:3333333)

Looks like Volo is back…wait, what? That definitely isn't the Volo that was here before. He has the same blond hair, grey eyes and face shape, but he's much taller, dark in skin tone and there's more of a curl to his hair. And he's got an entirely different child with him, whose face looks like that of a six year old girl--but she's over five feet tall! If the attendants look closely at them, they'll also notice that these two are walking toward the booth on digitigrade legs. Huh? Where did these Paradox Humans come from?

"We'd like three spins of the Moon Ball Mystery Roulette, please," the other Volo says, handing over the money.

Moon Ball Mystery // @forjustice

Thanking these strangers for their donation, they were given three whole spins! Each one a winner in succession. Goodness!

"We hope these three new friends will bring you joy!"

The Pokemon in the balls are...

[Johto Moon Festival '24] when you're in a making people uncomfortable contest and your opponent is allie desrosiers

[Author's Note: This post references Discord RP events and a version of a muse (Princess Allie from the anime) that isn't on this blog, but I'm posting here because I haven't had the motivation to set up the other blog she's supposed to be on in forever LMAO. @kokorowoutsu would be familiar with this muse and her plot, which will be covered below. In addition, feel free to have your muses hear and/or witness the argument she gets into here. Enjoy >:3]

Of everyone at the entire festival, she must be the only one who isn't happy.

The curse that Asimov--the Paradox Human Volo of Fallenverse--had placed on her had consequences far beyond those he had described to her, and she had a feeling they were fully intended. Enemy to Pokémon, enemy to children--when all hated and feared her, there was not a single place in public she could go without at least one of those two taking notice in the worst possible way. Far from simply having no Pokémon and no friends her age, she was more or less relegated to being a shut-in save for the early morning when no one was around on the streets to cause a scene in front of her. Perhaps, if she were not so foolish as to steal from him, his other self, and someone they knew--and perhaps if she was not so foolish as to attempt to harm his kin--she could have avoided all this. Perhaps if, even if she was foolish enough to do all that, she could have still avoided all this if she had not had the hubris to directly offend an ascended once-human Legendary like Asimov who could be just as vindictive as any classical god of legend could be--combined with all of a human's spite. But she didn't. And now she's here. And now she's angrier about her incurable curse than ever.

The countercurse work of the family of her fae betrothed, Maël Everspark, mattered little. At least most of the Pokémon around her now would simply turn their backs to her instead of immediately startling at her presence, but she learned the hard way that the improvement wasn't so helpful with children when one of them pointed at her and started wailing on the first day of the Festival. Since then she's had to only come on the festival grounds as soon as it opens before too many families appear on the scene--and then on her way out she's had to ninja dodge every child she saw just to avoid a repeat of what happened on the first day. Whatever. She's not going to let that ruin absolutely everything for her. She heard there were some cute Pokémon up for adoption. And if there's any sign that the "enemy of Pokémon" curse has lessened, she's going to get one, whether they like it or not. She saunters up to the Pokémon adoption bazar as soon as it opens.

"I'd like to have a--"

But the reaction of the Pokémon is instant. The three non-Ditto Pokémon remaining in the fields immediately run to where the Dittos are. She looks to the Ditto, which she had shittalked in a group chat just the other day, though now she'll take them because she's desperate--no luck there either. They don't seem agitated--they're too confident and too wholesome to be fearful or hateful of a child, as other Pokémon have acted due to the curse--but this is the one person on the festival grounds who they won't try to impress. One by one they turn around and pretend she was never there. Not only do they sense the curse, they can practically feel the snobbery radiating off her, fully aware they are only a last-ditch choice. They know they deserve better!

The attendant of the pasture narrows her eyes as she notices the response from the Pokémon.

"I don't know. I'm not sure if you would be the right fit," she says, looking nervous. She has worried a little about letting that Volo guy take a Pokémon despite the fact one of them did in fact come up to him. Part of her still wonders whether he had indeed been a full kitsune in disguise, though of course, she could see Airi and the Handsome Ditto looking happy with the man and his family as they romped about the festival grounds.

"Then I want to spin the mystery wheel," Allie demands. She yells to the guy who's running the wheel today. "HEY! Order up!"

The man looks up from setting up the wheel, jarred by her rude entitlement; he gives her a stunned 'what the heck is this girl for real' look before composing himself and calmly asserting the rules.

"Festival staff have the right to refuse service to those who are rude to us," he says.

Allie blanches--she knows she's potentially ruined her chance of getting a Pokémon. Then she puts on the biggest fake smile and tries again.

"I'm sorry, sir, for my behavior," she says, offering 1,500 Pokéyen as she goes up to him and lowkey shoving it in his face. "May I please have three spins of the wheel?"

He squints. He doesn't like the vibes that this redo is giving off, and he hasn't failed to notice the further entitlement in the way she handed him the money so he simply shakes his head. Children must learn that their actions have consequences--a lesson this child has clearly yet to learn, despite having been served so many of them.

She looks like she's about to protest, but then realizes: The main adoption center lady hasn't said no yet. She'll go bother her some more before she bothers him again.

"Excuse me, mademoiselle," she says, "but I don't see why I can't have a Pokémon."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible, miss," the attendant replies. "None of them seem interested in you."

"Well, I'm interested in them," Allie huffs, stepping forward like she's going to force her way in if she continues to be denied.

"We can't give a Pokémon to someone who they're plainly afraid of, " she says, gesturing to the three hybrids cowering in fear of Allie. "There was a gentleman here the other day who seemed to understand that perfectly."

"I'll take any Pokémon. Not just those three. Those Dittos don't look afraid of me. Give me one of them!" she demands, trying and failing to stop the desperation from creeping into her voice.

"We also can't give a Pokémon who doesn't wish to bond with a potential new Trainer." She sighs and shakes her head. "I'm dreadfully sorry, Princess, but we're going to have to ask you to leave."

Leave? But…

"I don't see why I should," she says. "They may not be interested now, but who says they won't be interested later?"

"Even if that were true, you were terribly rude to my colleague. As I've said before, I don't think you're a good fit for this adoption center," says the attendant, firm with an even and professional tone of voice typical of those in customer service when faced with unholy amounts of Karenage.

"I know I'm just a kid who makes mistakes, but trust me, I'm really nice to Pokémon!" Allie begs. "Please--"

"You ought to apologize instead of begging, Your Highness."

"Sorry," she grumbles. "Can I have a Pokémon now?"

The attendant shakes her head.

"My father is a King." A snarl creeps into her voice. "What if I told him to make you give me a Pokémon?"

"Your father has no jurisdiction over Johto, and you threatening us with him has only confirmed I have made the right decision. I will not ask again. Please leave."

Allie stares, dumbfounded. She was sure the threat would work. She should have known by now that there were people in this world that begging, pleading and namedropping wouldn't work on, but she keeps trying over and over again in the hopes of getting a different result. Then she begins to frown. Then, her stare turns into a glare.

"If you don't let me have a Pokémon...I'll take one myself."

She shoves her way past the attendants with little resistance, not even a "Wait! Stop!"--which should have been her first sign that everything that happened past "I'll take one myself" isn't actually happening. In the dreamlike vision that she thinks is real, she tears past the entryway to the pasture and the Ditto flee before her, leaving the hybrids completely exposed. She sizes them up, looming over them as Hana the Munna trembles in her shadow, thinking about who to pick. Finally, she turns her attention directly to Hana, and grins a spoiled little grin.

"I'll have YOU."

She makes a dive for Hana as it, too, turns to flee, seizing the poor creature in her grasp--but as soon as her arms wrap around it like a Pinsir's head-claws using ViceGrip, they completely phase through the Pokémon's tiny body as though she's a ghost. Then the false scene dissolves, and Allie finds her face hitting the dirt in a patch of grass on the edges of the festival, with the booths of the festival far in the distance. Above her, Asimov stands, looking supremely exasperated as he shakes his head--and she realizes that whole sequence past the moment she decided to try and take a Pokémon by force is his doing.

"You haven't learned anything, it looks like," he says disapprovingly. "Tsk, tsk."

She scowls as he walks away on his digitigrade legs. A Volo himself, he has all of Risenverse Volo's self-importance in every step. She glowers at him bitterly as he gets further away, and thinks to herself:

If learning to be better won't break the curse, what's the point?

[Johto Moon Festival '24] Slipping Away

Shirona wakes from the strangest dream.

In the dream, she had awakened from having snuggled with her mother Asimov, who was lying with one arm curled around her in their femme-presenting form. She saw a strange creature, like a Furret but crossed with a raccoon and a badger, scuttle upward onto the bed, sniffing curiously around Asimov's hair; like a child stealing their cellphone back from where their parents put it, it pulls a shining black slip of paper with Asimov's names in gold ink on it from her head and running off. Shirona had cried out for the being to come back, but it did not heed her calls, vanishing into the morning mist--a thief in the dawn. She woke up, mouth open and hand outstretched, just like they had been when the dream was finished.

She doesn't need to ask anyone for help to know that her mother's name has been stolen. Names are important, but especially to dragons, for whom deliberately using the wrong name is usually considered a capital offense. She knows she can wake her mother, and swiftly solve this issue--like every child her age, she thinks her parent is invincible, so much more so because they're literally a Girarceus--but she decides not to. What if she plays the hero and gets Asimov's name slip back herself? Then they'll finally see that she doesn't need to be hovered over all the time! They'll stop panicking when she was even a little out of their sight. They'll stop trying to accompany her on hunting trips even when they know that any Paradox Human child of six can already hunt and fight for themselves. Maybe they'll even stop putting her to bed at 7:30 PM sharp, and let her stay up late reading like the big girl she thinks she is! What can there be to lose?

In pursuit of her mother's name slip, she slips away into the morn.

The sun has just barely risen behind the cloud cover and the festival grounds aren't open yet. That isn't going to stop her from using her budding Giratina abilities to stealthily pass through them on her way to the Hangetsu Shrine. Everyone at the festival was so friendly and helpful--if there is anyone at the shrine this early, will they fault her for sneaking there to seek their aid in an emergency? If they don't understand that, perhaps they'll understand once they notice they can no longer say the words "Giratina" or "Arceus." That's bound to get their attention, even if they scold her because of her age.

If she reached out with her senses more, she would sense that something is different about the shrine today--particularly the first torii on the way in. But she's not in the mood for caution, or attention to these little details, so she charges right through--and abruptly stops once the cloudy day around her turns into a clear night.

She gazes about at the scene before her, dozens of yokai on a busy lantern-lit street, a kind of place one sees only in movies and books.

Maybe she's not to be a hero this time--but she's found something so much better.

----------

When Asimov themself wakes, they wake to an empty patch of warmth beside them--and the cold realization that both their name and their daughter have vanished.

The missing name is bad enough. Whatever being did it, Asimov would soon find out--the perpetrator is a fool to think it can hide such a grievous theft from a being as powerful as they. But they don't even have time to feel angry about the name slip before they notice that something far more precious is missing--their girl, their shining star, the only child they have left in the world, the center of what makes the multitudes of existence worth experiencing--gone. They cry out in wordless pain, their chest seizing with violent contractions that an ordinary human might mistake for a heart attack, as though their heart, the very heart of their world's cosmos, is about to burst. Even though they are far from their original world, the whole world of Fallenverse can feel it, a wave of deepening despair as fierce and raw as the cosmic hopelessness that had once engulfed it.

"Shirona!" they cry. "SHIRONA!"

They sprint down every hall and into every open room of the hotel before returning back to it, without their child. They run back to the bedroom and grip their blankets, claws unsheathing into the fabric as their panic turns to rage.

One of their Pokémon floats in to comfort them. A being called Holy Mausoleum, it is a white Spiritomb-like Paradox Pokémon made from the essences of the virtuous instead of the souls of the wicked. Like Spiritomb, its face is but a disk, but instead of a nasty grin it sports the visage of a benevolent, wise dragon. Asimov senses the being behind them, and turns with a look of utter devastation in their eyes.

"They took my daughter," they murmur, and then their murmur turns into a growl. "THEY TOOK MY DAUGHTER."

"No one has taken her," Mausoleum says calmly. "You know how adventurous she is. She might have left on her own."

"And how do you know that? Why didn't you go with her? Someone here--they must have--she'd never be able to--we must go, we're losing time--I'll show NO mercy if they hurt her--I WILL BURN ALL OF JOHTO TO THE GROUND IF THEY HURT EVEN A HAIR ON HER HEAD--"

It is at that point Mausoleum takes the form of one of Asimov's mothers, Raya--one of the virtuous ones whose essence makes up the Pokémon. She's not nearly as fair as her daughter, in fact she's rather disagreeable to look at, but she has a certain kindness radiating from her very being that makes none of that matter in the end. She puts a comforting hand on their shoulder, and their tension melts away into it. She is but an echo of Asimov's mother, but nonetheless, she's one of the few people who can calm them.

"Have you tried using your senses to find her?" Raya says. "You are a god now. Surely there are solutions that don't involve threatening an entire region."

"You're right," Asimov snarls. "I can find who took her without even leaving this room. And then they'll--"

"Don't think about that right now. Just search."

They close their eyes--but they can't relax. In their frenzy their consciousness flings itself into any available corner of the world, both mundane and metaphysical, scrambling about the web of reality like a skittering Galvantula. Raya squeezes their hand and sends a pulse of calming Psychic into them, and their searching slows as they sit down on the bed--though it doesn't quite stop their chest from feeling squeezed like a stress ball. Finally, finally, they find her.

"She's in the spirit world." They jolt to their feet once again. "We must--"

"Not when you're having a panic attack, my child," says the echo of their mother, not fully the one they lost but still her enough to have maternal feelings toward Asimov.

"It doesn't matter! She's--"

"She will come to no harm. Do you really think the spirits will hurt a Girarceus, even one so small? Even if one wanted to, do you think they would want to risk your wrath?"

"But I can't--"

Raya sits her daughter back down on the bed, and places a hand on their chest. The Psychic pulsing into them is stronger this time, boosted by a Calm Mind that the Pokémon infuses into them. She wants to stay there until her daughter calms, but with each pulse of the calming essence, their body pushes back--as though it wants to be panicked. She tries to say her daughter's name to calm them, any of their names, but when she does, the silence around them ominously deepens.

She lets out a strangled noise when she tries to say "Voloska," but she manages to get out a "Please. Please."

This is going to take a while.

----------

The spirit realm so reminds Shirona of the realm of the gods, which she has also visited often. She wanders down the streets, taking in the sights, looking down nooks and crannies at interesting scents that tickle her sense of smell--as sensitive as a snake's. It's all so familiar to her, as a spiritual being herself from the Lands of the Rising Sun, and yet since these are not her lands, it also feels like the faraway destination of adventure. She stares and stares and stares at all the yokai--save for some, who return her curious gaze with hostile glares. A little godling she might be, and perhaps if she were a Girarceus of this world she would not receive such hostility, but she is a foreign god, and even back home those of the spirit world can be quite cagey around outsiders. Not wanting to cause upset, though oblivious to the fact that many might regard her as unwelcome here, she averts her eyes from those.

She doesn't know how long she wanders. No matter what, though, she's long forgotten the prospect of returning Asimov's name slip--

Huh? There! Ducking into one of the shops on the street! It's the Furret-like creature from her dream! And in its mouth--the black and gold name slip! Her focus immediately snaps back to the task she wandered off for as she leaps toward the being.

"HEY! THAT BELONGS TO MY MOM!"

The Furret, realizing she's been caught, darts off through the streets--slipping under carts and beneath the other spirits' feet, zig-zagging this way and that in the labyrinthine city as Shirona gives chase. She turns into her Girarceus form--level 5, tiny, and about as threatening-looking as a baby goat--but when the Furret looks back over her shoulder, she recognizes the being for what it is and quickens her already lightning fast pace. Shirona isn't as fast, but she is clever; she locks on to the Pokémon's very Aura, making it appear like a singular colorful point of light in a sea of black and white. Finally, the Furret scrambles up the side of a building, hoping to evade the young dragonet by going somewhere she can't reach. But with her sharp claws she Spider-Girls her way up the side of the building's wood pole faster than the poor creature's mental health is prepared for, and pins the Pokémon down on the rooftop while snatching the name slip back in her claws.

"Who are you, and why did you steal from Mama?!"

The Furret lets out a squeal and writhes under her grip.

"P-please don't hurt me!" she yelps. "I didn't do anything!"

"Didn't do anything? You stole--" she instinctively tries to say Girarceus, but chokes on the word--"You stole a CREATOR GOD'S name slip! Who also happens to be one of my parents! How can you--"

"I didn't know it would mean that much to her! She can always get a new name, can't she?" Furret squeaks. "I just saw it and thought it was really pretty, and I like shiny things, so I...."

"Oh, please." Shirona rolls her eyes. "No creature of the spirit world would be stupid enough to take a deity's name slip just because it was shiny. And by the way, they're a they/them today."

"I didn't think they'd be this upset. I really didn't, I just thought the name slip was gorgeous, I have a whole collection of pretty things but I've never had a black and gold name slip before...."

Furret used Baby-Doll Eyes! It's not very effective...or is it?

For though Shirona can sometimes have a quick temper, she forgives as fast as she gets angry. And once she can see past her anger, she can sense that this tiny mischief maker really isn't lying.

"Wait--actually?" She looks bewildered.

"Yes, actually," Furret says, her Baby Doll Eyes growing even larger. I am just a little creachur, those eyes say. What could I possibly do to hurt a god?

And then she releases the thief, bursting into laughter.

"Ahahahahahaha! You really did--you actually thought--"

"In my defense, black and gold are my favorite colors," Furret says, folding her little arms.

"You're lucky I believe you. Otherwise you'd be in such big trouble! Oh, I can't wait to tell Mama--they're probably in a rage right now, they're going to be so embarrassed when they find out--"

The thought stops her cold. Oh dang. They actually probably will be in a rage. Come to think of it, they'll not only be mad about the slip, they'll probably think Shirona was purposefully kidnapped as well. Maybe coming out here all by herself was a mistake. Better get back to them before they start killing people.

"Hey, you know how to get out of here?" she asks.

"Give me back the slip and I'll tell you," Furret says, blowing an irreverent raspberry at the tiny god. Now that she's not being pinned down by a sharp-toothed dragon twice her strength even at a mere Level 5, she's a lot more bold.

"Tell me how to get out of here and I'll put in a good word with my mom for you. Leave me here, and you're on your own," Shirona immediately counter-offers, and the creature pouts. Looks like she really does have no choice but to give her new shiny back after all. Darn.

"So where are you from?" the Furret asks on the way back to the entry gate.

"I'm from a world that's...been through a lot in recent times. Some call it Fallenverse, but I prefer to call it Hopeverse," Shirona says. "Just ten or so years ago, we were in a huge crisis where the world was ending--but now that the evil has been defeated, we're recovering. It's not as lively of a place as this, but so many people think it's just a completely broken wasteland with nothing worth living for in it--and they'd be wrong! You should see the Alabaster Icelands in the winter, Jubilife and Floaroma Village in the spring, oh, and the Three Lakes are absolutely stunning this time of year--"

As Shirona's new companion leads her back home, they trade stories about each of their respective worlds; each one's presence, for the other, has a certain quality of home. They may have gotten off on the wrong foot, but both know it in their bones: This is the start of a new and beautiful friendship, one that's bound to last even as they both cross the bright red gate.

-------

"Where is my daughter."

Asimov's voice booms out from the gate to the spirit world, having passed through the first torii at the shrine like their daughter did. At once, the entire street turns to face them and Raya, who has walked in with them. Some look scared, while others give them hard gazes. They don't care. Their child is here. And they will not bend, they will not compromise, they will not leave until they find her.

Raya had tried to calm them. This is as calm as they can get.

"Are you referring to the girl who came through here earlier? The one with feathers and scales and who walks on her toes?" says an old man Ninetales in a kitsune anthro form, looking up from a game of go with his friends. "Yes, she came through here. Wouldn't be able to tell you where she is now, though."

"I want to know," Asimov growls as they approach, "did anyone take her here?"

The man visibly leans away from the intrusion, with a rather snobbish 'eugh, don't come near me' look on his face. Only a few kinds of creatures would be so bold in the face of a deity, and mischievous yako foxes like this one are one of them.

"How would I know if your daughter was taken? I've got nothing to worry about in my life besides whether my buddies show up to Go on time."

"No one took her. She came here herself. It was only by accident that she ended up here. I can sense it," Raya says, but her words fall on deaf ears.

"If my daughter is none of your concern, I will make her everyone's concern." They let out a snarl. "I am--"

Much like Shirona earlier they instinctively try to say Girarceus, but the strange silence settles on them instead.

The fox man smirks.

"You got your name slip stolen, didn't you?" he says slyly. "You've lost a child and your name in one day. My, my~"

The wrath in Asimov's eyes practically ignites at the taunt. But they can feel their mother's stern presence behind them, the only thing stopping them from putting the fear of the gods in this yako. They bare their sharp teeth, and their pointed ears flatten; the yako dares to hiss back.

"Stop," Raya says. "It won't help you find her."

"Then what will?" Asimov cries. "What will?!"

No sooner do they ask that question than Shirona comes pelting back down the street, waving their name slip in her hand with the Furret running behind her.

"Mom!" she yells. "Mom! Mom! Mom!"

The panic, the fury, the wild instinct of a mother dragon--all of that instantly melts away as Asimov runs toward their precious baby girl, scooping her up and whirling her around in a massive hug.

"Shirona," they breathe, placing a motherly kiss in their daughter's hair. "I thought I'd lost you."

"You always say that," Shirona says, as they set her back down on the ground. "You said that when we were at the Veilstone Department Store and Other Mom and I were just taking a really long time in the bathroom."

"I really did this time. I thought you'd been taken--"

"No, I came here by myself. I was looking for your name slip when I ended up here. It was an accident. Promise."

Asimov beams down at her. "You really did give me the slip, didn't you?"

"Yes, and I'm giving you the slip again," Shirona says, unable to resist punning back as she hands the missing paper back to her mother. Then she turns back to the Furret, who's looking down at the ground with the ferret-badger-raccoon equivalent of a guilty cat face.

"And I believe this gremlin here has something she wants to say for herself."

"Oh?" Asimov looks down at her with a sly smile. "Are you the tiny thief who stole my name?"

"I wasn't stealing it. I was...borrowing it. Borrowing it indefinitely," says the innocent, sweet baby fur noodle. "My name is Yumiko, madam. I mean, Your Highness. I mean, Your Majesty. Wait, no, I mean, Your Holiness. I mean..." She looks at Shirona for help. "What do you call a god in your world? Same as here?"

"Asimov-sama or Kami-sama is fine," Shirona says, and Yumiko's eyes go wide. Kami-sama. Oh, now she's REALLY fucked.

"You are quite a foolish little one, aren't you, Yumiko?" They look at her with slightly narrowed eyes.

"Shirona said that too." Yumiko's guilty cat face is back. "But hear me out. I was walking around the festival grounds, looking for pretty things to stea--borrow for my collection. I went into your room. And in you I saw the most prettiest name slip I've ever seen, with the most prettiest names, too. I can't pronounce your big long name and I don't know what Girarceus means, but they both sounded really cool, like warrior names. So I just had to--"

"Voloska Kalonymus Asimov is the Celestica name I was given when human. And 'Girarceus' is a portmanteau of Giratina and Arceus, the two gods whose position in my universe I ascended to," they say. "Do you really mean to say you stole something so precious from me because you thought it was pretty?"

Yumiko nods rapidly, giving Asimov the biggest Baby Doll Eyes she ever has in her entire life.

"She's telling the truth," Shirona says. "I know it. Don't hurt her, Mama." She puts a hand in Yumiko's soft fur. "She feels like a friend."

"Friends don't go around stealing names, though, do they," Asimov says, but their tone is one of amusement rather than wrath or scorn. "Since you seem to be uninformed, I wish to enlighten you. A god's name is important to them, of course--but so is a dragon's. Among dragons, using the wrong name is among the gravest of offenses, and using the wrong name deliberately is grounds for execution. With your youth and innocence, such a punishment would not be fitting, but as you grow older, you would be wise to keep it in mind."

"I promise, Asimov-sama, I'll make it up to you," Yumiko squeaks.

"You will make it up to me." Their voice once again turns stern. "Your kind are experts in the calming of frenzied Pokémon, yes? Then as penance for your transgression, I have a task for you. Forty years of calming the Pokémon of my world who have been frenzied by the evils that were done to it. No more, but no less."

Shirona gapes. She knows her mother is strict, but--

"But that's so long!" Yumiko cries, completing Shirona's thoughts. "I'm only six! If I do that for forty years, I'm going to be...." She thinks for a moment. "Forty-six!"

"In my culture of origin, forty years is symbolic of a cycle of completeness. By the end of such a cycle, you are sure to become more mature," Asimov replies. "You are a spirit, are you not? You will live for far longer than that--and as the years go on, you will find them advancing more and more swiftly. My daughter is six years old as well. You will both be forty-six long before you realize the time has passed. And though you have made a terrible mistake, you will find yourself stronger from it in the end."

"I don't like working, though..." Yumiko looks to Shirona for help.

"Pleeeeeeease could you make it just twenty?" Shirona says, giving her mother baby doll eyes of her own. "Or forty divided by ten, which is four?"

"Four. Four is good," Yumiko says.

"You angered a deity. Those are the terms." They shake their head--and then their face breaks into a mischievous grin. "Now, come with me, you little--"

They scoop the fur noodle up into their arms; she kicks and squeals, but deep down she knows the terms are set. The family exits the spirit world back to the festival grounds with one more family member--and with Shirona the hero she came here to be.

@kokorowoutsu

Getting out of Asimov's sight is never easy, but even at the tender age of six, it's something she's done many a time. What else can one expect from a Paradox Human girl who's strong and clever enough to backpack through the Alabaster Icelands with just herself and her Pokémon? With the promise of some time just between these two while Ashe and Leon watch from afar, she lures Willow to a secluded spot on the festival grounds.

"Hey. Heyheyhey. I wanna tell you a secret," she whispers, looking around to make sure no one is even remotely within earshot. "If I do, though, you have to promise not to tell anyone."

Shirona glances around once again just to be extra sure she's safe, then leans in and whispers directly into Willow's ear.

"I used chance magic to get wins on all three spins of the Moon Ball Mystery Roulette, and it worked," she says. "I also tried to use it to get the special Pride Month surprise, but that didn't go so well. I probably should've asked Mama to do it, 'cause I'm worried I might get backlash for it later, but it was so, so worth it. Besides, I feel like Mama would totally have said no."

"Huh?" She's quiet for a bit, thinking on the word 'secret'. Was it like the Tinkaton Forge that she had been sworn to keep secret...? "-- Ok'y! I can do it!" She offers a grin. "What kinda secret t'o?" She asks, shifting her Larvesta in her arms.

"I mean, yeah, I'm a bit worried I could get hurt," Shirona says, still whispering, "but really, how bad could it be? All I did was give myself a little help in a game. What's the worst that could happen?"

She sounds so confident, but underneath it, there's much more worry than she's letting on.

"I don't think using magic like that is always bad. Maybe it would be bad if there was only one prize and I got it, but did you see how many Moon Balls they had? It's not like they were gonna run out because I gave myself three Clefairies. But it's not like your mom is gonna find out, right? Because you promised to keep it secret." She grins conspiratorially.

"I can show you the Clefairies I got. I'm sure you'll agree that whatever comes after this, they were worth the trouble."

-- RP: @forjustice

forjustice:

Shirona glances around once again just to be extra sure she's safe, then leans in and whispers directly into Willow's ear. "I used chance magic to get wins on all three spins of the Moon Ball Mystery Roulette, and it worked," she says. "I also tried to use it to get the special Pride Month surprise, but that didn't go so well. I probably should've asked Mama to do it, 'cause I'm worried I might get backlash for it later, but it was so, so worth it. Besides, I feel like Mama would totally have said no."

Of course Willow is slow on the uptake but once she hears 'magic' and 'Pride' she puts two and two together. "But using magic like that is bad, ain't it?" She asks Shirona, trying for once to keep her voice down as best she can. "What if y'u got 'r git hu't?" She's slipping into Fae if only by accident, but her blue-green eyes gleam with worry for her friend, a frown appearing on her features. "-- Mama definitely will get mad too if she knows you did it..." Of course, Ashe would only be getting mad out of concern for Shirona as if she were her own, but still, Willow worried for her friend nonetheless.

@preparefortroubles @reachtothestars get a starter that's like 5 whole hours late GADLSKFJSADKLFAJDLFKJ

It doesn't take long for Shirona to find the culprits who stole her precious Clefairies. The young Paradox Human girl has the nose of a bloodhound and twice a hound's stubbornness to boot--but with the giant, obvious dragnet full of Pokémon, she certainly doesn't need it! Should've kept them in their balls, you idiots, she thinks, as she sprints toward Jessie and James and screams--

"HEY! YOU ASSHOLES! GIVE ME BACK MY POKÉMON!"

If a 5'8" six-year-old girl saying the word "asshole" doesn't get their attention, what will?

I've really been Going Through It these past few days and I'm not really in the headspace to write anything relating to loss/mourning, but someday when I do have the energy/headspace I want to work on bonfire letters that Asteria and Zinnia wrote to their dead sister Aster, and that Volo wrote to his deceased child.

Moon Maiden Contestant #8

@forjustice // Volo

The scene opens to Airi riding on Hadar’s back–Airi the Shiny Skitty/G-Rapidash hybrid from the adoption bazar, Handsome Ditto Hadar having shifted into a Nidoqueen-Charizard hybrid, Hadar's blue wings catching the light. They traverse an illusion-crafted nighttime forest in the Alabaster Icelands with snow blanketing the ground, and a full moon created via Moonblast shining through the branches. The music is at once modern and ancient, the wild yet elegant tones of a journey into the depths of the old growth woods. In the dark of the night, they hear Volo’s growl, punctuated with yips like the sharp laughs of wandering ghosts:

“Who goes there, in the depths of the forest?

Who goes there, by the light of the moon?”

Airi Sings in answer, whereas Hadar uses their own Growl to sing back–for among Pokémon who can growl, the artfully deep, raspy sounds are the very essence of singing. Everything is in the language of Pokémon, with the illusion providing subtitles at the bottom.

“We walk here, the children of afar

We walk here as strangers to these lands

But though your trees are not the ones that birthed us

We all share the light of the moon.”

As they sing, they can see a streak of silvery white shooting through the trees, circling them, sizing them up; they don’t know whether it’s an enemy or a friend. Then the beast emerges–Volo in her giant winged fox dragon form as a Hisuian Kitzoro with silver fur, black scales and nine tails, some foxlike, some draconic. She bears a green kitsune mask that has changed her type to Grass/Dragon, and to show for it, she has tender blooming vines growing out of her pelt. Her eyes are full of the moon’s great judgment, but she judges them worthy, and her gaze softens. Her primal growl-song carries a haunting echo of birth and bereavement.

“We, too, were once strangers to these lands

That now we claim as mother, who claims us as her own.

O strangers, moon- and forest-children both

Let us share the light and shadow of our parents.

To her guests, the moon gives many gifts

To my kin, there’s naught more precious than a tale

I shall gift you a tale of my mourning

I shall gift you a tale of my bliss.”

She throws back her head and as the mask slips from her melancholy face the signature move Spirit Call rises with the peak of the music, a song that calls on the memories of Hisuian Kitzoros' exiled ancestors. The cry peals through the trees as Airi’s psychic power causes the Moonblast moon to cycle through the sky, taking the forms of the sun and the moon in all its phases–as though the months pass before the crowd’s eyes. No words are spoken, but all can feel its meaning. It sings of the tragedy of loved ones’ passing, the euphoria of reunion through rebirth. It sings of the pain of ancestral roots being ripped from the earth, the joy of finding new roots wherever one goes. The canine howl is the primordially feminine voice of the earth and sky; Volo’s Grass Knot causes plants to bloom and wither, as though the sound itself sparks the circle of life.

The song is one of history, both worldly and personal, and as it echoes across the festival grounds, it lifts Airi and Hadar into the air on the wind of its splendor. The two allow ectoplasmic ribbons released by Spirit Call to surround them like a mother’s arms, Airi glowing pink with Calm Mind and Hadar gold with Earth Power. Volo soars up to join them; they all intertwine in a graceful and increasingly intricate floating dance–a dance of strangers becoming friends, friends becoming family.

When they land, the song turns more tender as Volo leans in and seems to almost purr her next words, the purr-like noises punctuated with soft, sweet yips.

“The moon and the forest have lost many children

The moon and the forest have borne many more.

Sorrow and joy, joy and sorrow

Bloom like zinnias and chrysanthemums.

The moon and the forest have lost many children

The moon and the forest take in many more.

Will you be a mother’s joy to dull her grieving?

Will you be the joy of mothers’ tales of home?”

The pangs of gaping loss inhabit those words, along with the Grass Knot zinnias and chrysanthemums that bloom around them–the grief Volo sings of being dulled is a grief she knows well, one she knows will never fully leave her. The final two lines of the last stanza are a sudden, uninhibited cry, fierce and primeval in its anguished loneliness; the ferocious beast of the woods wants nothing more than beings to care for. Slowly, Airi and Hadar draw forward, the cry still echoing into the shadows. Volo wraps a paw around Hadar and a few fluffy tails around Airi.

And then Volo dissolves into her feminine human form, an ethereally beautiful woman in a flowery kimono with eyes made from the shifting colors of the sky, and thick waves of blond hair made from starlight silk. She kneels as her arms wrap around the two Pokémon crouched on the ground, faint tears trailing down her cheeks from the catharsis of the song that she released into the dark.

"Welcome home, Airi and Hadar."

Heyheyhey, Johto Moon Festival Moon Maiden contestants, like this post if you're okay with Wallace being a Contest snob about your Appeal >:3 Don't worry, he'll say good things too, but overall hit that little red heart if you're not afraid to get roasted. Fufufufufu

MAGIKARP CATCH + 2 (for Shirona!)

You caught a Dragonscale Magikarp!

It knows the move Sing!

[Johto Moon Festival '24] BEWARE THE CONTEST SNOB

"Well, well, well..." Wallace puts a hand to his chin as he watches the Moon Maiden performances with a critical eye. His most toxic trait: he holds every Coordinator to the highest possible professional standard, like he's never heard of people just doing it for fun. "This Moon Maiden competition has many more contestants than last year, but more isn't always merrier~"

And there he goes, spouting off his opinions on the shows to literally anyone who'll listen.

@dandieliongirl

"First up, we have Anzu. Not a Coordinator by profession, and I can certainly tell. It was lovely enough to look at, I suppose, and she does have a good singing voice. But are twirling and throwing flowers everywhere really her only two skills? She says she wants to spread her wings and fly...She should stay on the ground first and add some more complexity to her technique. Perhaps there's a glimmer of potential in that Cubone of hers, but that performance was too much of a novice one to really tell."

@vixletserenity

"I've met Celeste before. I helped her get a Cosmog. She may prove a Trainer worthy of the Solgaleo or Lunala it evolves into...but she certainly won't get there with her Coordinating work. She makes the same mistake as Anzu does, thinking her voice can carry the performance--and the sparse move use certainly isn't enough to make up for the fact there isn't much else to comment on. I will say this, though. Her grasp on the use of Water- and Fairy-types is quite decent, all things considered. If she wanted a Coordinating career I wouldn't say she's doomed, but she certainly has a long way to go."

@oathofmoonlight

"Kaguya's? Oh, please, girl! Everyone else at least tried to have a moon theme! Unlike some others she seemed to actually be an expert in the skill she was performing, which I definitely do appreciate. But I take exceptional issue with the fact she's vying to be a Moon Maiden and yet the only phase of moon she seems to perform with is the new one. Besides, after a while of watching it, all her moves started to blur together to the point I can't even remember them--and it wasn't even long enough that most people would think details blurred together to begin with. Let this be a lesson to everyone: It's one thing to be an expert in something. It's another to do it expertly on stage."

@gruusha

"So, the thing about Grusha is, I owe them a big, big favor. I owe them a trip to the biggest, best Pride celebration in town--and with the end of Pride Month coming up, I need to do it fast. Maybe I was too late, though, because if they'd been to even one--one--drag show they'd come away with insights into the art of performing that they oh so desperately needed. It is admirable of them to do such a graceful dance in spite of previous injuries--I say that without reservation. But my one big question is: Where's the Pokémon? I suppose the main focus of a Moon Maiden Appeal should be the actual maiden, but to me, keeping the Pokémon completely hidden just screams a lack of imagination on how to use it.

"....Don't tell them I said this, by the way. How can I drag them to Pride if they know I've been gossiping about them?"

@forjustice [yes I'm tearing apart mine as well it's only fair heh]

"Look. I normally don't like questioning performances with deep personal significance. But we're talking about Volo of all people--are we sure she isn't just guilt-tripping us into giving her the prize? You'd hardly believe that she's one of the few Coordinators who's ever gotten a perfect score across the board when you see her make such a hugely glaring rookie mistake: She barely even does anything up until the middle part, and after the dance there most of the rest is just singing--which doesn't help my feeling that she was riding on the audience's sentiments to win. On top of that, I know these performances have to be short, but can we talk about the pacing--they go from strangers to honored guests to friends to family in the span of, like, what, three minutes? Maybe this wasn't the place for expressing such a story. Or the place to try and win the popular vote just by making everyone feel sorry for you outside the context of your performance--not that there even is a place for that, really. But you don't have to take my word for it. I'm just one person who as a religious figure is intimately familiar with the mythology and scripture surrounding this particular individual, and this is just my personal opinion."

Oh? They look quite sad. Yes, Wallace thinks, one would naturally be quite upset if their performance turned out like that, but given the commotion before the sending he at least can sense that Grusha has more to worry about than a mediocre Appeal. He approaches them with concern in his eyes as though he wasn't gossiping about them just a few hours earlier; Grusha may not be a Coordinator of Wallace's caliber, but after all, even amateurs are human.

"Hello, Grusha," he says. "Do you need any assistance?"

between being injured in the spirit world, a dance which required them to bear full weight upon their infirmity (even for a brief moment), and a sudden need to rush to protect innocents from the attack of spirits, the fading adrenaline yields a fresh resurgence in their awareness of the pain they've grit their teeth & taken medication against.

... to no avail, at this rate.

sensing his trainer's concealed agony, beartic is quick to move, and scoop grusha into his giant paw so that they may rest their leg.