NEO-TOKYO | pokemon trainer au

Check out the Court of Halcyon, holy knights of the Bleak Wilds and a growing unboarded proclan who aim to bring peace and order to Agrelos!
  • RAINSWEPTHEART | WINDCLAN WARRIOR | BIO


    Midea, eighteen years old and upon her zenith dawning and waking, felt destiny approached her upon golden chariot, extending its gilded hand to her. Dreams flooded her head of the moment that she would become Champion, stone-cold fact and bane of all who faced against her. The title hung just over her head, as if lying fruit of the tree, and even as tragedy after tragedy struck at her, it eluded her, as if a silver-lined fish. Training ever since she existed a child of harvest blueberry and lamb's bones. She gripped that Pokeball upon certain hand as if her lifeline, attached at the soul and vein, blood pulsing through both. Adolescent years spent, sweat glistening from forehead and gazing upon yawning dusk after training that left limbs sore and gnawing. Upon present day, she felt as if her path marked itself for her, reality and dreams coinciding. Much like the route that beheld her form now, sneakers upon oak's firm yet sand's soft ground. She hummed a tune without name to call yet she bounced over each note as if familiar to her, perhaps a song of instinct and subconscious. She bore shirts and shorts, tucked neat and hugging at herself. She exposed her skin olive-hued from sun's grace. Summer turned its ire to her, at least to flesh and body. The flap of wings touched her senses, and she glanced to the back to gaze upon her Swanna, companion undying and unyielding, as if the day to the night. It waddled paced besides her, though it trailed her like a noon shadow. It cooed with tone of satin and silk, almost like the tune Midea rolled from her tongue.



    " JOIN IN OUR PRAYER, IN OUR SONG "

    " OF BIRTHRIGHTS AND LOVE " —

  • Juniper had yet to receive a Pokemon meant for traveling yet - instead, her mother had offered her a pet Sewaddle instead, who chittered quietly at her side and bit at the grass beneath its feet. She was so close to turning 11 - perhaps days away - and the quiet girl often spent her time watching the trainers battle their Pokemon, wishing that she could fast-forward to the day she could join them.


    The Sewaddle, as if sensing the gloomy child and her mood, chattered more loudly and tried to crawl itself into her lap, dragging its caterpillar-like body up onto hers and settling in easily. Another audible sigh from the young girl would sound and she'd drag a hand across the Pokemon's leafcrest easily. "Why do we have to wait so long, Sewaddle? We could beat them easily. Half of them don't know any of the type advantages."


    "speech"

    ☾*: We are such stuff as dreams are made on ——

    and our little life is rounded with a sleep

    avatar by smogbody / juniperkit / windclan / tags + storage / penned by cieoli

  • RAINSWEPTHEART | WINDCLAN WARRIOR | BIO


    Midea didn't notice the child, so primed upon youth like summer's harvest of fruit, and her Pokemon, too focused upon that tune catchy, a flow of silken river. Though, it seemed her Swanna noticed it first, with gaze so free, bird's beaded and keen glare. Veering off of the path, the bird stopped upon its tracks and hurtled towards the child and her Sewaddle, curiosity driving it forth like a beast, charged with madness upon veins pumping gold. The swan flapped its wings at her, though not as gusted, stormwind upon mere strokes, as it would be in battle. It stopped its gait and instead now waddled towards the young child, as if care had been deposited to it now, dropped like a molten jewel upon night water. A curious glint lit its eyes, a match burning with ardent fire. "Swanna, what are you doing -" Midea's words started to cascade from her lips, a statement of quick draw. Though, she was more confused than mad, as she could never bring herself to scold her Pokemon of which love fell easy for it. "Oh! Hello there, young child. That's quite a cute Pokemon you have there." Her tone shifted to that of cotton daydream. She noticed the child and her caterpillar, wandering about all alone. She remembered when she was that age, so ready to abandon the comforted life she bore, bursting forth upon the world like a shooting star upon moonless nights. Her Swanna drew back any attempts to be nosy, instead now just stared at the two, ivory crown and plume.



    " JOIN IN OUR PRAYER, IN OUR SONG "

    " OF BIRTHRIGHTS AND LOVE " —