TWO YEARS AGO, A CRIMINAL ORGANIZATION GOING BY THE NAME TEAM IMUM WRECKED CHAOS ACROSS THE LAND, DAMAGING CITIES AND KILLING THOUSANDS OF CITIZENS. While Imum itself has long since been disbanded, however, the region remains broken: entire towns have been laid to waste and the Association struggles to find homes for those who were lucky enough to survive the attempted genocide. Reconstruction trudges on as usual... but with three factions - the Association, the corporations, and the people - each wishing to take the rebuilding of an entire region down opposite paths, how long will it be before Lyeant's last leg gives out permanently?
03.01
first activity check is currently underway. regardless of your green status, please be sure to check it out and make extra sure your characters make it safe and sound after the eighth of march.
01.28
we're officially re-opened! come check out our event, the pokeathlon forever to enjoy some fresh restart activities. let leap know if there are any skin bugs, and they'll be sorted out accordingly!
Care to hear about our lord and savior Operation: Mindcrime? In all seriousness: Hello, hello! I'm Pharaoh Leap – or just Leap – local head admin and rock opera enthusiast. On the rare chance you catch me in a time when I'm not bawling about characters entirely written into song, you may see me actually doing work around the site, like skinning, making too many characters, and encouraging others to also make too many characters. I only know how to write angst, and in no fewer than six trillion words an app or post, so if you like dying while reading like I like dying while writing, I'm the girl for you. ;o
Howdy guys! The names Astro and I am your resident Brit & Red muse (you'll honestly see me more on him than any of my other characters). I'm a moderator and my main job is to make sure everything is running smoothly so the Admins can focus on other things, you'll often see me within the apps and shops, etc when I'm not on Red. What can I say about myself? Apart from being a Red fanboy I like music and games and yaoi huehue, I honestly never now what to put into these sort of things but ohwell, I'm more of a "ask me and I'll tell" sorta guy. Anyway, from my personally I hope that you enjoy the site and what we produce here but also if you're new, please look around and if you like what you see please consider joining for rad plots that everyone gives! :D
Hey there~ Nano over here! I uh.. Wait, I'm doing this right, right? Bleh. So I'm a moderator over here - fun, fun - who kind of just.. Keeps an eye on everyone. You know, the whole app thing and what not. Uh.. Lets see.. When I'm not doing school work (because I may or may not be trying to be a good student) I'm probably storming up new ideas like events and etc. Or plots. Plots are always good, too. As you can see, I uh.. Have the horrible habit of making way too many characters. I swear, I was tempted with plots, ships and angst. It's like, the holy trinity. Uh.. What else is there about me? Oh, right! Please excuse my obnoxiousness. I'm just really loud in general so don't be surprised if I start screaming as loudly as I can caps. So yeah. Nice meeting you!
tbe: take two! is inspired by, but not associated with nintendo's pokemon franchise. the current skin was created by pharaoh leap using font icons primarily from ion icons and fonts from google fonts. banner art by vav of pixiv. characters, with the exception of canons from the manga, belong to the members who write them, and all posts and templates on site are credited to their respective authors and artists. we claim nothing that is not ours.
● heartthrob outside, crybaby inside[break] ● pretends to be #too cool for you[break] ● doesn't actually know how to date
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zach's profile
single, but not really looking for anything romantic. there are always excuses - oh, work is just so busy lately; or it would look bad for the association; or i just got out of a bad secret breakup - but the truth of the matter is that zachary has never dated and, knowing him, likely never will. when he was younger, he was head-over-heels for the girl that everyone wanted, albeit not for the same reasons (she had a killer body, rip) that most around him were, but as people tend to do, she left him to the dust, and he hasn't really felt the same spark for anyone else since... assuming he's even moved on from the first.[break][break]
despite his lack of experience in the genuine romantic pursuits, he's actually open to one-night-stands and the casual fling. while his research work is... lacking at best, the press likes to fawn over him and his very pretty face - being on trashy lists of "lyeant's most wanted bachelors" isn't exactly unheard of, with his appearance and his position - so it's not entirely unheard of for him to stave off the loneliness and eternal fountain of angst with something purely physical and non-committing. unfortunately, his bed is reserved only for the opposite gender, so even if you just wanna have a quick fling, you've gotta be a lady to get in!
Post by ZACHARY HAZEL on Mar 1, 2018 16:16:06 GMT -6
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NOTHING LEFT TO SAY
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I'VE COME TOO FAR TO SEE THE END, NOW, EVEN IF MY WAY IS WRONG
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I'M GIVING UP
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who knows how love i've been awake now? the shadows on my walls don't sleep. they keep calling me, beckoning. who knows what's right? the lines keep getting thinner. my age has never made me wise, but i keep pushing on and on and on and one. there's nothing left to say, now. there's nothing left to say. i'm giving up, giving up.
Suicide attempt accusations and a supposed lack of care for the success of them typically didn't sit well with people – something he had, thankfully, not learned from first-hand experience, but would say was safe to assume considering human nature and how most treated suicide in general. Only the cruel of heart said such things and meant them. In truth, Zachary probably would have felt some shred of guilt over the silent stranger moving elsewhere only to “tie the knot”, as they said, but his intention had only been to scare him off with words harsher than he felt. Impossibly, they didn't seem to work, eliciting only so much as a tilted head and a look that couldn't even be called incredulous for all his hard efforts to sound like a terrible example of the human race. This, paired with the stranger's “nonchalance” about (or, rather, what he was now assuming to be ignorance of) the destruction raining down around them, begged a question he wasn't entirely sure he wanted answered: Was this person an idiot? Maybe it would be better to try to coax his trigger-happy party even further into the ruins, hard as it may have been to corral them before they'd successfully blown off the remainder of their steam, but even then, there was no guarantee this tight-lipped “looney” wouldn't try to follow him, still oblivious to the dangers that staying too close posed. Trying to take his own life? Probably not. If he wasn't careful, though, his life would be taken for him, whether he liked it or not.[break][break]
Sure enough, as shrapnel flew, the professor found himself expecting the worst. Not only did he not respond to the cry of awareness, but he didn't so much as move to defend or a call a Pokemon to defend for him, apparently intent on pretending the rubble was not flying at all, or so confident in his thick skull that he believed it wouldn't get punctured like a needle through a balloon on impact. Shit. Despite his half-hearted insults from before, he really didn't want this man's death being placed in his hands, and if he didn't act fast for him, it very well looked like he'd be bearing witness to yet another fresh corpse on a cool, Lyeant night. (Not again, he wouldn't do this again.) “Wiatr!” he called, face almost as passive as ever but fear flooding too-expressive eyes hidden beneath dark lenses. “Defend O-”[break][break]
The command, however, turned out to be useless. Without so much as a word, two Pokemon broke out of their stillness and silence to pull off a combo that Zachary had honestly not been expecting to see, tonight or any time in the near future. An Espeon to defend, casting Psychic on it just in the nick of time to prevent a bloody collision, and that same Pikachu from earlier to attack, striking the frozen stone with an effortless Iron Tail that had it shattering into a thousand pieces or more. All without a command, no less. Many an explanation flashed through his own mind, one of which was that this trainer had spent so long flinging rocks at himself that his Pokemon knew instinctively what to do to protect him, but without knowing anything more than the silence that followed him and the swift, mighty actions of two of his party members (perhaps his only party members), he wasn't so quick as to start writing up stories or pulling together conclusions based on false assumptions. “You...” he said lamely, mouth moving to speak but mind find itself at an unusual loss of words, and all in all, he couldn't figure out what to make of this. A skilled trainer had to have some amount of intelligence to be regarded as such, so the idea that his newfound company was an idiot was all but thrown out the window by now. Perhaps he was just cocky. Arrogance would certainly explain why someone would willingly stand in the middle of No Man's Land without so much as a furrow of the brow.[break][break]
And then the trainer card was presented to him.[break][break]
“... So you're Red, huh? The Red.”[break][break]
In hindsight, it made perfect sense: Pikachu in tow, obvious battle prowess, an unspoken bond with his Pokemon, and an unfazed reaction to destruction. The blond had been under the assumption, of course, that he would be much more... talkative than this, but people assumed quite a bit about celebrities they'd never known, and a person didn't typically rely on a voice to save the world twenty times over. With the mystery of the st- no, Red's identity lifted, however, he was left with a crippling sense of embarrassment. He'd told the youngest champion in history, the Red, to go take his suicide attempt elsewhere. Leave it to him to make such a stupid mistake; he could only hope the former champion wouldn't go running to the Association to tell them that one of their figureheads was encouraging twenty-year-olds to kill themselves. “Sorry, uh – about what I said earlier, I mean, I didn't know it was... Fuck.”
Post by ZACHARY HAZEL on Feb 1, 2018 14:48:25 GMT -6
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ZACHARY HAZEL
'S THREAD & RELATIONSHIP TRACKER
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ZACHARY[break] HAZEL
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one of those stinking awful black days where nothing is pleasing and everything that happens is an excuse for anger, and outlet for emotions stockpiled, an arsenal, an armor. these are the days when i hate the world. hate the rich. hate the happy. hate the complacent, the tv watchers, beer drinkers, the satisfied ones - because i know i could be all of those little hateful things, and then i hate myself for realizing that. there's no preventative or safe approach for living.
[attr="class","fraceshighrelationname"]DANIEL PARKS FRIEND
a friend made through connections to his aunt that's managed to, miraculously, perhaps, for them both, survive over the years. while their jobs don't allow them to cross paths much, danny is a welcome face at any mandatory association meeting, being just about the only person there who doesn't make him want to tear his hair out.
And then you can write about that relation here! Move in to fire at the mainstream of bombers. Let off a sharp burst, and then turn away. Roll over, spin 'round, and come in behind them. Move to their blindsides and fire again. Bandits at 8 o'clock move in behind, ten ME-109's out of the sun. Ascending and turning our spitfires to face them; heading straight for them, I press down my guns.
Post by ZACHARY HAZEL on Jan 31, 2018 9:10:26 GMT -6
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NOTHING LEFT TO SAY
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I'VE COME TOO FAR TO SEE THE END, NOW, EVEN IF MY WAY IS WRONG
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I'M GIVING UP
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who knows how love i've been awake now? the shadows on my walls don't sleep. they keep calling me, beckoning. who knows what's right? the lines keep getting thinner. my age has never made me wise, but i keep pushing on and on and on and one. there's nothing left to say, now. there's nothing left to say. i'm giving up, giving up.
The World's End erupted into a hailstorm of rock and stone behind him, and yet even the visual aid paired up with his verbal warning was not enough to deter this silent stranger. Surely, Zach had thought when he moved to stand, those actions had been to start his escape – but he only stood, silent, shaking his head in the wind as though unfazed entirely by the destructive fanfare that played out before him. Come to think of it, though, it would have been impossible to miss all of the noise his Pokemon kicked up into the air no matter how lost in thought was, and the fact that this person had sat, unmoving, through it all should have provided provided a shred of insight. Enough, at least, to figure he wasn't going to move any time soon. It begged the question, then, of what he was doing here, something supposedly so important that he would risk life and limb to get it done and over with. Paying respect to his destroyed home, perhaps? Praying for the souls of those who had lost themselves at the hands of Imum and her wicked ways? He looked to be doing neither – but then again, he, himself, didn't look to have any sort of control over what was happening by way of a darkened light show. Looks, as they said, could deceive. Wondering about it wouldn't earn him anything... but his curiosity wasn't so persistent, either, that he found it in himself to ask.[break][break]
Rather, irritated by the unwelcomed company and the filthy taste of ash clogging his mouth like a drain, the professor found himself throwing out an accusation he held little belief in, words scathing for the sake of being so. “If you're here to end it or something, at least take it somewhere else. I don't want them pining your death on me.” Never mind the fact that a suicide versus a murder could be distinguished by looks in most instances, and the thought of this bizarre, expressionless man having a gun on hand to blow his brains to smithereens never even crossed his own mind. Still, having a suicide victim show up in a place where he was known by some to go could needlessly drag him into an investigation. It wasn't a matter of time, so much as a matter of not wanting to get involved in that. He'd already had his fill of the police and the law. To an extent, it was why he was out here in the first place.[break][break]
If his words were to reach the red-clothed man at all, though, he wouldn't have had much time to react, much less go about relocating. Almost as soon as his words left his mouth, the sight of a stray piece of airborne rubble filled the periphery of his vision, its destination set on the stranger's general location at best – directly for his head at worst. “Ah – look out!”
these are the days when i hate the world[break] hate the rich, hate the happy, hate the complacent
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zachary alexander hazel was born on the nineteenth of june in a small place known as aria village. the small populated area was hardly a fitting place for the hazel family, really; for as long as any of his close relatives could remember, he grew up in a very wealthy family on his mother's - the pine's - side, and they lived in arguably the largest residence in town. the hazels were known as flying-type trainers, specializing in bird-like pocket monsters in order to carry on the legacy of the first flying-type gym leader in lyeant and the many flying-type users in their family who failed to take the very position. no one really minded being practically forced to raise pokemon either at least one of their types being flying, guessing as their very home was known for the vast amounts of airborn creatures that lived and visited there, and so the legacy was passed happily down to the newest blond addition to the family.[break][break]
zach was born to samantha and anthony hazel, with an older sister by the name of kaitlyn by nearly seven years. however, even before his birth, his parents did not exactly get along too well, constant arguing and bickering going on between the two. in the end, when the boy was merely three years old, the two had a divorce and his father took his elder sister and moved to a place they would likely never meet again. this left the boy saddened at first, but upon seeing how crushing this event was on his mother, he was glad that neither had to see his father or his elder sister's face again. he has all but blocked their names and faces from their memories, the fact that he was quite young when he last saw them helping to erase them both from his mind, and tried to be there for his mother when no one else could. samantha hazel was by no means a good mother, however, often choosing her well paying job over her own young son and usually leaving him in solitude. the woman often left him a variety of things that he asked her for - typically through notes rather than actual conversations - and the young boy was left to his own devices. from a very young age, he found he was quite skilled with electronics and understood the nature of Pokemon quite easily.[break][break]
upon entering school, the blond was easily labeled as a "nerd", an easy target for many of the haughty kids around him and a ripe picking for the childish term known as a "bully". therefor, as a child, he was picked on quite frequently. he was also a bit of an antisocial, preferring to stay cooped up in his room for hours on end, listening to his mother's classic rock music and programming wonders on his expensive desktop. however, this did not keep him from befriending a young girl by the name of danica who would endure the same endevours as he through most of their lives. while he often chose to stay passive about many things and try to shut things out, she would often stand her own ground and stick up for not only herself, but for him when he couldn't. while their personalities vastly differed, the two got along like two pees in a pod, practically joint at the hip from the time they first met to the time where he made a later decision that would change the course of his life. the two broke his family's tradition when they discovered an injured eevee in the woods and decided to take care of it on their own, raising it in secret from his mother and dubbing it their sort of "pet". perhaps it would be one of their starters when they came of age, but that was to dwell on later. well, it would have been if things turned out differently.[break][break]
even with danica by his side to counter verbal barbs and punches with her own, the two were still often victims of the other students around them, the harsh encounters only worsening throughout their elementary and junior high school years. eventually, the eevee they had both worked hard to raise was discovered by their sort of nemesis and beaten to a near death state while the two friends weren't looking. upon finding the normal-type beaten and bloody and seeing his friend's tearful reaction to her favorite pokemon's abuse, the intelligent young man began to rethink his path in life. if he was weak, nerdy, lame, et cetera, et cetera, people mocked him and abused him. when he continued to do nothing about it due to the fact that he thought he couldn't, not only he, but the people around him got hurt, too. he could stand himself taking the beatings, but not the poor young eevee he'd helped raise and the girl who'd stuck by his side since their very young days. upon entrance into high school, the blond took a nearly one hundred eighty degree turn on life, deciding that if being a "nerd" got people hurt, than being "cool" would protect the people he cared about. slapping on a pair of sunglasses and climbing up the social later with great haste, the constant bullying all but ceased and his plan, for the most part, worked. however, in the end, danica was all but forgotten in his sea of new "friends" and the two never really had a true conversation again.[break][break]
as the high schooler's mother's health began to deteriorate, he began to see more of his far away aunt, melissa pine, an apprentice researcher hoping to specialize in the natures of pokemon and hand new trainers starters of their own along with her signature pokemon, haru. the woman was a genius among geniuses, if not a little bit messy and rough around the edged, but she ultimately became the teen's hero as time went on. when he was first shipped off to vardent town to spend time with her - what a kind mother, leaving him practically alone for nearly ten years and finally offering him a solid guardian figure when he could finally take care of himself - the two got along like chalk and cheese. he was rather cold to her and made it be known that he would much rather be practicing his new hobby of remixing music back at home while she got overly upset about ever singly little thing he seemed to do. however, on one of his earlier visits, he fixed her malfunctioning computer for her while he thought she wasn't looking, making it function as well as it would have had it been new, and the woman, having witnessed the crime in action, decided to help him grow on his skills. as she finally was accepted as lyeant's very own region-known professor, she began passing down everything she knew from her own studies, even helping ship him off to other regions rarely and letting him actually meet face to face with some famous professors like samuel oak and whatnot. it was obvious that, when he put his mind to it, he could become a very successful professor, possibly even surpassing his aunt and maybe even some of the other professors from distant regions. however, the thought of being a professor contradicted his "cool" status and he grew weary of the thought that, if he pursued such a path, he and the people around him would be targeted once again.[break][break]
the blond graduated from high school with flying colors, leaving aria village behind in order to attend college classes in erayo city, a place closer to his aunt and uncle's with better schools than in aria. after graduating from that, too, the boy returned home to visit his mother and uphold the family legacy of a full flying-type team. while he wasn't the greatest trainer who ever lived, he wasn't too bad at the capturing and training of flying types, forming a solid team that would be useful in case of emergency. while team imum spread fear across the land, the boy once more broke the tradition upon finding a shiny eevee similar to the one he and danica had raised as kids. his inability to resist adorable, fluffy pokemon in need lead him to caring for it a while before hesitantly adding it to his team. while the pocket monster ultimately fell in love with him - not romance-wise, that is, but a brotherly loyalty of sorts - the sunglass-wearing male found himself pushing the creature away, afraid it would mess up his social status that he believed was protecting him and the people around him. in the final stretches of lyeant's war that he'd tried his hardest to stay neutral in, word that his aunt, professor pine, had died in an attempt to save a group of people in vardent town shattered his stable life and sent him into near depression. the seemingly untouchable, undefeatable woman he'd grown so much on and vice versa was gone forever, fallen to the hands of a cruel organization whose reasonings were unclear. blinded by utter rage, he threw himself into the fray, tearing through imum member after imum member in a futile attempt to avenge the dark-haired woman and bring her back into his arms. but even the organization's downfall at the hands of the public was not enough to help ease his mood.[break][break]
in the years after her death, someone had to take the spot as the region's professor. knowing that it would be impossible to bring her back and that the woman really had no final wish, zach decided that he would make that final wish for her - for the boy she had worked so hard to mold into an admirable young professor to take her place. in the end, that was exactly what happened, the young man wearing the red, plush suit taking her spot in hopes to make her proud in heaven - or whatever afterlife one wanted to believe in - and to keep the region in order. while he is not a good professor by any means - very lazy about his work and not always the nicest to what he calls "the noobs" - part of him truly wants to be a professor even better than mrs. melissa pine before him.
Oak, Elm, Birch, Rowan, Juniper, Sycamore, Kukui: all representatives of their regions, a mark of technological and intellectual advancements and the start of many new adventures for anyone from children doomed to obscurity to the Dex Holders who come to save the day. And then there's Professor Hazel of Lyeant: sloppy seconds, most would say, a hasty replacement when the woman he called his aunt, worth of her position as the region professor was handed a cruel death to the hands of Team Imum. To an extend, the professor embraces this idea. He's not a fool; if he had any drive to fill in his role properly, he'd preform his duties as expected and then some. But guilt eats away at the back of his conscious (why didn't you save her, why didn't you save her?), and caught somewhere between wanting to carry on his aunt's legacy and refusing to be her replacement, he has failed not only himself, but the woman in question and his region as a whole. Lazy. Dismissive. Selfish. A shadow of what his title should stand for.
[break][break]
>>> FRIENDSHIP
Zach repels friends through a combination of active deflection and being a generally unpleasant person to spend time around. He sticks far too closely to his outward image of “cool” and “apathetic”, and that paired with his tenancy to be insufferably know-it-all-ish (he's very intelligent, good at reading people, and isn't afraid to flaunt it) give others the impression that he's too stuck up to bother interacting with. Furthermore, if he notices someone getting too close, he'll purposefully say something mean, even if he doesn't mean it or believe it just to keep them away. His only friends were those made in his youth or because of his status is the “rich, cool kid”, but nearly all have been lost to time. The only people who could find themselves here are those who can see through his guise of being an Ice King and are persistent enough to want to stick around – not that I could think of a good reason why you would.
PLOT IDEA #1 every day would be the same. nothing more, little change. if i cared, it would mean nothing: it's all such a pain. friendly bonds are so unneeded, i don't give a dang. a busy life is what i am. could it be that family was a way of escape? didn't know if it was right, so i threw them away. couldn't take it anymore, i had taken enough, so then i hide my need for love.[break][break]
PLOT IDEA #2 lay me right down, let me sleep, i'm restless. cover my eyes. when i'm up, i'll finally fade away, here, today. give me a reason: then i'll stay. if i could fly, if for only a moment, there wouldn't be such a need for casualty. i'm alone, and that is how it'll be.
>>> HATESHIP
The professor's breed of iciness is crafted specifically to ward others away, not incite fights he has no interest in carrying out. In fact, if we're talking about actual battles carried out with Pokemon, Zach isn't allowed to battle at all, seeing as his trainer license was taking away from him by force. You could say, too, that the only thing keeping him out of jail is his family's money and influence. The only people, then, who would stand to really hate him are those he has robbed in the past: not of their funds, but of the lives of their Pokemon. While he never actively fought to kill, he also did a poor job of reeling in his overly-violent Pokemon when they got carried away, and while he was never witness to the deaths he caused, there's no doubt that quite a few opponents lost their Pokemon partners at the hands (claws?) of his arsenal of flying-type Pokemon. Otherwise, he has his own personal reasons for hating Imum – he was the first to discover the murder of his aunt, Professor Pine at their hands, for one thing, and the murder of his best friend Logan, again at their hands, for another – and has set about on a spree of vigilante justice with sword in hand rather than Pokemon to pay those who have escaped the law their just dues... if not cruelty beyond that.
PLOT IDEA #1 every day would be the same. nothing more, little change. if i cared, it would mean nothing: it's all such a pain. friendly bonds are so unneeded, i don't give a dang. a busy life is what i am. could it be that family was a way of escape? didn't know if it was right, so i threw them away. couldn't take it anymore, i had taken enough, so then i hide my need for love.[break][break]
PLOT IDEA #2 lay me right down, let me sleep, i'm restless. cover my eyes. when i'm up, i'll finally fade away, here, today. give me a reason: then i'll stay. if i could fly, if for only a moment, there wouldn't be such a need for casualty. i'm alone, and that is how it'll be.
>>> LOVESHIP
He played hard to get in high school because he was all the talk of the ladies growing up – maybe a little too hard to get, in fact, seeing as he hasn't had a single girlfriend. He likes to play it off like he knows everything there is to know about relationships, but realistically, he never had the courage to confess to the one girl he liked before she split the region for good. Really, he's just a hopeless mess. In general, really, but perhaps here, especially.
PLOT IDEA #1 every day would be the same. nothing more, little change. if i cared, it would mean nothing: it's all such a pain. friendly bonds are so unneeded, i don't give a dang. a busy life is what i am. could it be that family was a way of escape? didn't know if it was right, so i threw them away. couldn't take it anymore, i had taken enough, so then i hide my need for love.[break][break]
PLOT IDEA #2 lay me right down, let me sleep, i'm restless. cover my eyes. when i'm up, i'll finally fade away, here, today. give me a reason: then i'll stay. if i could fly, if for only a moment, there wouldn't be such a need for casualty. i'm alone, and that is how it'll be.
>>> WANTED
As region professor, he passes out starters to newbie trainers who don't already have them, and technically has his own Pokedexes to pass out to those he'd deem worthy of bearing the mantle of Dex Holder. Of course, raising Pokemon specifically for journeys, much less keeping those abandoned 'dexes clean are both things that go shirked in his line of work, among many... many other things. Otherwise, I know we don't have a lot of ex-Imums, but in the instance that one finds its way here. Let's dook it out. ;D He's got a lot of bottled up rage to take out, yaaaaaay.
Post by ZACHARY HAZEL on Feb 15, 2017 21:52:11 GMT -6
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NOTHING LEFT TO SAY
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I'VE COME TOO FAR TO SEE THE END, NOW, EVEN IF MY WAY IS WRONG
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I'M GIVING UP
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who knows how love i've been awake now? the shadows on my walls don't sleep. they keep calling me, beckoning. who knows what's right? the lines keep getting thinner. my age has never made me wise, but i keep pushing on and on and on and one. there's nothing left to say, now. there's nothing left to say. i'm giving up, giving up.
It's a common belief across the largest regions of Pokearth that a person has not really lived unless they have devoted a part of their life to the adventures of being a Pokemon trainer. And it shows – a sweeping gaze across any system of routes to reveal bright faces, old and young and every age in between trekking on foot from one city to the next with nothing but their party at their hip and a dream in their head. To find a person on the face of the planet without one non-human partner or another regardless of intent is practically unheard of, this alien thing that any normal person would meet with shock and awe. Licenses float around like currency, easier to acquire than air, and all of the little boys and girls will have their shot at greatness regardless of wealth or origin. He, too, has had his: shots and licenses, partners and dreams and a whole world out there waiting to bend beneath his foot. Mighty heroes start off as the most nameless of nobodies, after all. (So, too, does he.) There was a time when his income was provided not by the Association, but instead by his peers, his elders, and his juniors, each one losing to his hand and coughing up the appropriate “dough” in the face of his ferocious team of birds, and there was a time when nothing in the world save for a head of raven hair and a pair of jade eyes had his heart pumping quite like the adrenaline rush that came hand in hand with a battle struck particularly close. Journeys, however, he's come to learn first hand, don't last forever. They can't. There's only so much ground to walk, so many seas to cross, so many skies to soar through before the world has given all there is to give – and there's only so many Pokemon that can fall, battered beyond what any sound moral code would dictate, before all of those shots and licenses and dreams have to be ripped violently from his bloody, bloody hands. Zachary Hazel knows what it feels like to be a trainer. Zachary Hazel has “really lived”. (That was a long, long time ago.)[break][break]
Smoke forces itself from his lungs by way of a cough, guttural and harsh against his ears, and he tries hard not to look too long at the cigarette as he pulls it from his lips. He doesn't do this very often – hates the smell, the taste, hates the way Lena's eyebrows pinch together when the stench clings to his clothes and the knowledge that the more he does it, the more he'll need it – but the times he does always feel like a necessity. He'd surely die out here in this rubble, he thinks helplessly, without a drag or two or twenty, done in by his own nerves, swallowed whole by self resentment and the inevitable heart attack that would follow. His whole reason for trudging through these ruined streets is to calm. Not himself, of course, but it seems unfair to let his retired old team out loose to wreck havoc where no one can get caught in the blast without giving himself the chance to relax even just a bit, too. A shame that each stick only manages to stave off the unease that builds up every time he has to come out here; it can't do anything to help him and his daily burden of troubles. Not unless he wants to start carrying these darned things around in his pockets. (Part of him wonders if the Association would even let him, if that would contradict too much with the “Professor image” he needs to present for all the good little children out there looking to him to make their Pokemon trainer journey hopes come true. Too bad the best thing he can give is the hard truth: You can walk a thousand miles, but it'll just make you another nameless statistic failing to claw your way up to the top.) He hates that, too, though. Hates bringing these darned birds out into the wreckage of a place once known as Veherna so they can release all of their pent up aggression like he lets go a stained-white breath. They're all pleasant for the visitors, just a step shy from batting eyelashes they may or may not have at the officials who come to check on them all to assure that his research is, in fact being done, but all he ever sees anymore is the potential for violence struggling to bleed out through their feathers and scales. He wouldn't give them up for the world – but that doesn't mean that they aren't walking, breathing reminders of some of the worst failures of his past.[break][break]
(He's made so many by now that one would imagine he'd learn to stop.)[break][break]
Business as usual, his least favorite day out of every two months. The professor smokes, and structures no longer resembling the houses they once were become even less recognizable in the face of Pokemon too aggressive to know what to do with themselves. Cycles, circles, repetitions – until its not, and a flash of red and yellow comes streaking through the sea of grays and browns, just barely missing the arc of an Air Slash here and the flap of Vent's rocky wings there. He squints against the sun, not because he can't see (sunglasses, really, are gifts from the legendaries) but because that can't possibly be right. His schedule isn't the only one being followed out here, but the Seers who try quite futilely to put this place back together are never out at this time of the day, nor have they ever attempted to work their “magic” out this far before. The idea of someone honestly being foolish enough to traverse this dangerous area alone is almost too hard to believe – right up until the moment crimson hues find themselves landing on an almost familiar-looking man clad in much the same color. (Those clothes and that Pikachu don't click right away; later, he'll sputter and deny, but for now, recognition fails him.)[break][break]
“Yo,” Zach calls over the wind, one hand shoved in his pocket and the other pointing the lit end of his cigarette away from his face as he cups his words. As easy as it is for delinquents to learn the error of their ways the hard way, he doesn't think he wants fresh blood on his hands any more than he wants to be here right now. “You're in the way. Might wanna head back into town before -” His words are swallowed, momentarily, by a sudden blast from behind him and the rain of stone that follows. Desensitization is the only thing that keeps him from flinching at the noise; undeterred, he tries again, “- before these idiots decide they want to start trying target practice.”
Post by ZACHARY HAZEL on Nov 26, 2016 21:11:39 GMT -6
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[attr="class","zachpostlyrics"]I KNOW PLACE WE CAN GO WHERE YOU'LL FALL IN LOVE SO[break] HARD THAT YOU'LL WISH YOU WERE DEAD
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one of those stinking awful black days where nothing is pleasing and everything that happens is an excuse for anger, an outlet for emotions stockpiled, an arsenal, and armor. these are the days when i hate the world. hate the rich. hate the happy. hate the complacent. the tv watchers, beer drinkers, the satisfied ones. because i know i can be all of those little hateful things, and then i hate myself for realizing that. there's no preventative or safe approach for living. we each know our own fate. we know from our youth how to be treated, how we'll be received, how we shall end. these things don't change. you can change your clothes, change your hairstyle, your friends, cities, continents, but sooner or later your own self will always catch up - always it waits in the wings. ideas swirl, but don't stick; they appear, but then run off like rain on the windshield. one of those rainy day car rides, my head implodes. the atmosphere in this car, a mirror of my skull: wet, damp, dripping and misted with cold. walls of gray; not a song on the radio, not a thought in my head. i know a place we can go where you'll fall in love so hard that you'll wish you were dead.[break][break]
let's take life and slow it down, incredibly slow, frame by frame, with two minutes that take ten years to live out. yeah, let's do that. telephone poles like a praying mantis against the sky, metal arms outstretched. so much land traveled, so little sense made of it. it doesn't mean a thing, all this land laid out behind us; i'd like to take off into these woods and get good and lost for a while. i'm disgusted with petty concerns: parking tickets, breakfast specials. does someone just have to carry this weight? abstract typography, methane covenant, linear gospel, nashville sales lady, stocky emissary, torturous lice, mad elizabeth, chemotherapy garbage. i know a place we can go where you'll fall in love so hard that you'll wish you were dead.[break][break]
the light within you shines like a diamond mine, like an unarmed walrus, like a dead man face down on the highway, like a snake eating its own tail, a steam turbine, frog pond. two full closets burst open in disarray, soap bubbles in the sun, hospital death bed, red convertible, shopping list, death's head, devils dancing, bleached white buildings, memory, movements. the movie, unpeeling, unreeling, about to begin. i know a place we can go where you'll fall in love so hard that you'll wish you were dead.[break][break]
i've seen your hallway, you're a darn call away. i hear your stairs creak. i can fix my mind on your "yes" and on your "no". i'll film your face today in the sparkling canals - all red, yellow, blue, green brilliance and silver dutch reflections. racing thoughts, racing thoughts, all too real. you're moving so fast, now, i can't hold your image: this image i have of your face by the window, me standing beside you, my arm on your shoulder. a catalogue of images, flashing glimpses, then gone again. i'm tethered to this post you've sunk in me. every clear afternoon i'll think of you, up in the air, twisting your heel, your knees up around me, my face in your hair. you scream so well, your smile so loud, it still rings in my ears. i know a place we can go where you'll fall in love so hard that you'll wish you were dead.[break][break]
inhibition, distant, tired of longing. clean my teeth, stay on the course, hold the wheel, steer on to freedom. open all the boxes, open all the boxes, open all the boxes, open all the boxes. times square midday, newspaper buildings, news headlines going around. you watch as they go and hope for some good ones. those tree shadows in the park, they're all whispering, chasing leaves. around six pm, shadows across the cobblestones. girl in front of a bathroom mirror as she slowly and carefully paints her face green, mask-like, like matisse, "portrait with green stripe". long shot through an apartment window, a monologue on top, but no girl in shot. the light within me shines like a diamond mine, like an unarmed walrus, like a dead man face down on the highway. like a snake eating its own tail, a steam turbine, frog pond. two full closets burst open in disarray, soap bubbles in the sun, hospital death bed, red convertible, shopping list, death's head, devils dancing, bleached white buildings, memory, movements. the movie, unreeling, about to begin.
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PHARAOH LEAP , i've seen your hallway, you're a darn call away. i hear your stairs creak. i can fix my mind on your "yes" and on your "no". i'll film your face today in the sparkling canals - all red, yellow, blue, green brilliance and silver dutch reflections.
these are the days when i hate the world: [break]hate the rich, hate the happy, hate the complacent
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zachary alexander hazel was born on the nineteenth of june in a small place known as aria village. the small populated area was hardly a fitting place for the hazel family, really; for as long as any of his close relatives could remember, he grew up in a very wealthy family on his mother's - the pine's - side, and they lived in arguably the largest residence in town. the hazels were known as flying-type trainers, specializing in bird-like pocket monsters in order to carry on the legacy of the first flying-type gym leader in lyeant and the many flying-type users in their family who failed to take the very position. no one really minded being practically forced to raise pokemon either at least one of their types being flying, guessing as their very home was known for the vast amounts of airborn creatures that lived and visited there, and so the legacy was passed happily down to the newest blond addition to the family.[break][break]
zach was born to samantha and anthony hazel, with an older sister by the name of kaitlyn by nearly seven years. however, even before his birth, his parents did not exactly get along too well, constant arguing and bickering going on between the two. in the end, when the boy was merely three years old, the two had a divorce and his father took his elder sister and moved to a place they would likely never meet again. this left the boy saddened at first, but upon seeing how crushing this event was on his mother, he was glad that neither had to see his father or his elder sister's face again. he has all but blocked their names and faces from their memories, the fact that he was quite young when he last saw them helping to erase them both from his mind, and tried to be there for his mother when no one else could. samantha hazel was by no means a good mother, however, often choosing her well paying job over her own young son and usually leaving him in solitude. the woman often left him a variety of things that he asked her for - typically through notes rather than actual conversations - and the young boy was left to his own devices. from a very young age, he found he was quite skilled with electronics and understood the nature of Pokemon quite easily.[break][break]
upon entering school, the blond was easily labeled as a "nerd", an easy target for many of the haughty kids around him and a ripe picking for the childish term known as a "bully". therefor, as a child, he was picked on quite frequently. he was also a bit of an antisocial, preferring to stay cooped up in his room for hours on end, listening to his mother's classic rock music and programming wonders on his expensive desktop. however, this did not keep him from befriending a young girl by the name of danica who would endure the same endevours as he through most of their lives. while he often chose to stay passive about many things and try to shut things out, she would often stand her own ground and stick up for not only herself, but for him when he couldn't. while their personalities vastly differed, the two got along like two pees in a pod, practically joint at the hip from the time they first met to the time where he made a later decision that would change the course of his life. the two broke his family's tradition when they discovered an injured eevee in the woods and decided to take care of it on their own, raising it in secret from his mother and dubbing it their sort of "pet". perhaps it would be one of their starters when they came of age, but that was to dwell on later. well, it would have been if things turned out differently.[break][break]
even with danica by his side to counter verbal barbs and punches with her own, the two were still often victims of the other students around them, the harsh encounters only worsening throughout their elementary and junior high school years. eventually, the eevee they had both worked hard to raise was discovered by their sort of nemesis and beaten to a near death state while the two friends weren't looking. upon finding the normal-type beaten and bloody and seeing his friend's tearful reaction to her favorite pokemon's abuse, the intelligent young man began to rethink his path in life. if he was weak, nerdy, lame, et cetera, et cetera, people mocked him and abused him. when he continued to do nothing about it due to the fact that he thought he couldn't, not only he, but the people around him got hurt, too. he could stand himself taking the beatings, but not the poor young eevee he'd helped raise and the girl who'd stuck by his side since their very young days. upon entrance into high school, the blond took a nearly one hundred eighty degree turn on life, deciding that if being a "nerd" got people hurt, than being "cool" would protect the people he cared about. slapping on a pair of sunglasses and climbing up the social later with great haste, the constant bullying all but ceased and his plan, for the most part, worked. however, in the end, danica was all but forgotten in his sea of new "friends" and the two never really had a true conversation again.[break][break]
as the high schooler's mother's health began to deteriorate, he began to see more of his far away aunt, melissa pine, an apprentice researcher hoping to specialize in the natures of pokemon and hand new trainers starters of their own along with her signature pokemon, haru. the woman was a genius among geniuses, if not a little bit messy and rough around the edged, but she ultimately became the teen's hero as time went on. when he was first shipped off to vardent town to spend time with her - what a kind mother, leaving him practically alone for nearly ten years and finally offering him a solid guardian figure when he could finally take care of himself - the two got along like chalk and cheese. he was rather cold to her and made it be known that he would much rather be practicing his new hobby of remixing music back at home while she got overly upset about ever singly little thing he seemed to do. however, on one of his earlier visits, he fixed her malfunctioning computer for her while he thought she wasn't looking, making it function as well as it would have had it been new, and the woman, having witnessed the crime in action, decided to help him grow on his skills. as she finally was accepted as lyeant's very own region-known professor, she began passing down everything she knew from her own studies, even helping ship him off to other regions rarely and letting him actually meet face to face with some famous professors like samuel oak and whatnot. it was obvious that, when he put his mind to it, he could become a very successful professor, possibly even surpassing his aunt and maybe even some of the other professors from distant regions. however, the thought of being a professor contradicted his "cool" status and he grew weary of the thought that, if he pursued such a path, he and the people around him would be targeted once again.[break][break]
the blond graduated from high school with flying colors, leaving aria village behind in order to attend college classes in erayo city, a place closer to his aunt and uncle's with better schools than in aria. after graduating from that, too, the boy returned home to visit his mother and uphold the family legacy of a full flying-type team. while he wasn't the greatest trainer who ever lived, he wasn't too bad at the capturing and training of flying types, forming a solid team that would be useful in case of emergency. while team imum spread fear across the land, the boy once more broke the tradition upon finding a shiny eevee similar to the one he and danica had raised as kids. his inability to resist adorable, fluffy pokemon in need lead him to caring for it a while before hesitantly adding it to his team. while the pocket monster ultimately fell in love with him - not romance-wise, that is, but a brotherly loyalty of sorts - the sunglass-wearing male found himself pushing the creature away, afraid it would mess up his social status that he believed was protecting him and the people around him. in the final stretches of lyeant's war that he'd tried his hardest to stay neutral in, word that his aunt, professor pine, had died in an attempt to save a group of people in vardent town shattered his stable life and sent him into near depression. the seemingly untouchable, undefeatable woman he'd grown so much on and vice versa was gone forever, fallen to the hands of a cruel organization whose reasonings were unclear. blinded by utter rage, he threw himself into the fray, tearing through imum member after imum member in a futile attempt to avenge the dark-haired woman and bring her back into his arms. but even the organization's downfall at the hands of the public was not enough to help ease his mood.[break][break]
in the years after her death, someone had to take the spot as the region's professor. knowing that it would be impossible to bring her back and that the woman really had no final wish, zach decided that he would make that final wish for her - for the boy she had worked so hard to mold into an admirable young professor to take her place. in the end, that was exactly what happened, the young man wearing the red, plush suit taking her spot in hopes to make her proud in heaven - or whatever afterlife one wanted to believe in - and to keep the region in order. while he is not a good professor by any means - very lazy about his work and not always the nicest to what he calls "the noobs" - part of him truly wants to be a professor even better than mrs. melissa pine before him.
