solas_ion: (no cure for the son of deichtire)
[early morning; Goldenrod Pokemon Center]

Guys, I got this weird feeling. Kind of like I can sense something behind me, but every time I look there's nothing there. Needless to say, something doesn't feel quite right here.

[If one was to look very carefully, they might see a Smoochum hiding behind the PC in the background.]

[mid-morning; Goldenrod Department Store]

[Lancer turns on the video again, seeming even more suspicious than before.]

Look, if someone wants a fight with me, they can come out and say so. Whoever's following me around, knock that shit off.

[And in the background, half-hidden behind a shelf? An incognito Smoochum in too-large sunglasses and a fedora.]

[afternoon; breeding center]

Okay, seriously! I'm tired of this, whoever the hell's stalking me you've been at it for hours! I swear if it's Whitney again I'm getting the hell out of this city.

[Does anyone else see the Smoochum slooooowly advancing on him like ninja cat? Lancer doesn't, because at that particular moment the egg he's been carrying with him decides to start shaking and cracking.]

[His attention diverted, the stalking Smoochum sees her opportunity. Closer and closer and closer...]

[Only to be intercepted by an Audino dropping down from yonder tree and engaging in an ineffective slapfight with Lancer's mysterious stalker. Meanwhile the clueless trainer himself has gone from holding an egg to holding the cutest damned thing ever.]


I swear this place gets weirder the longer I'm here.
solas_ion: (wandering shadow)
[Dropped to the ground of Route 34 not far from Goldenrod, the video showed an oddly tilted view of Lancer with his Venomoth at his side, currently facing a group of very angry Krabby.]

[That tends to happen when a trainer provokes the hell out of them looking for a way to challenge his already overleveled Pokemon. Oops.]


C'mon, then. Let's have a little fun. [The insect darted forward, and the next few moments were a rush of motion, snapping claws, fluttering wings, and one Lancer swatting at a few of them with a fishing pole. Until...]

[Snip.]

[In a moment, without warning or indication. The atmosphere changed drastically. The wild Krabby that had leapt up to attack the fishing rod wielding Trainer had instead caught half of a blue ponytail in its claw. The air had become tangibly heavy with absolute shock, and everything from the wild Krabby to Lancer himself had fallen uttelrly still save only for the wingbeats of a Venomoth.]

[That signature blue hair was now several inches shorter.]

[And the look on Lancer's face--an absolute look of horrified shock turning to sudden snarling anger--suggested this meant far more than a simple cosmetic change.]




Fragarach, PSYBEAM!

[In response to her Trainer's sudden rage, the sudden psychic distortion in the air was apparently strong enough to knock out the video feed.]
solas_ion: (for little there is of my life remaining)
pain that never left with no reprieve )

[video]

[The hovering camera focused on the back of a figure in black, dark blue hair swaying faintly in the occasional breeze as he walked about five feet in front of the camera. He stood straight and proud as ever; his current emotions aside, he would never allow himself to appear any other way.]

[The concerned buzzing of a Venomoth and the beat of its wings the only indicator of who held the Pokegear, anyone fluent in its language might have been able to tell the insect was saying 'Something's wrong.']

[And of course something was wrong; Lancer seemingly refused to face the camera, assuming he knew it was on.]


Fragarach. Turn that off--knew I shouldn't have told you how to use it.

[And thirdly, there was no emotion in his voice. Bright, cheerful, charismatic Lancer spoke in a near-total deadpan tone. When the Venomoth buzzed in response, Lancer sighed. Hands in his pockets, he still refused to look back at Fragarach and the camera she held. But when he spoke again, it was a little louder--as if Lancer was adressing someone watching rather than his Venomoth.]

What did I tell you, kid? [Calm, dismissive. The flat tone had faded somewhat, the former Servant's voice steady as ever with an added note of 'I told you so'.]

[He stopped walking, standing tall on an empty road. Aside from the Venomoth holding the camera, Servant Lancer was completely alone on the route he currently walked. No Olldóiteán, no Liath Macha or Dub Sainglend...and no sign of Connla.]

[He had always expected this day to come. How many had Cu Chulainn lost? His brother Ferdiad, dead by Lancer's own hand. Scathach, the teacher that had been so dear to his heart, separated from the mortal world and doomed to a fate unknown to him. His dearest and only love Emer, dead for at least two milennia now.]

[And now his only son, lost to him once through a misunderstanding and Lancer's own blade...now surely lost forever through no more than the whim of an extradimensional reality.]


Good luck never lasts.

[Johto had been as good as paradise to him and better. So if he was to continue losing all that mattered...that was fine. Even though it ached more than his own lance had when it cut through his heart, it was alright. Servant Lancer would simply go back to doing what he always had, and be a guard against whoever or whatever would threaten this place that was to be his homeland. So that those who were happy in this place could stay that way.]

[The Hound of Ulster would remain a proud Knight of the Red Branch until such time when this place would send him to his third and final end.]

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Lancer || Cu Chulainn

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