worldisyours | IC Inbox

[Rindo has a bit of a moment, here. He is a very normal guy, supposed time-travel-and-death-game-participation notwithstanding. (It doesn't count if he doesn't remember.) And so he's not really used to… thinking about things in terms of strength, the way Gladion seems to be doing right now. You don't exactly ponder the power level of your classmates or random people in the street.

If anything, coming here has made him feel powerless. And yet here's Gladion saying they're stronger than Silvally? That they could take it in a fight? That's… Yeah, maybe that's objectively true, but it feels… unfitting. Suppose that comes with the territory of being made into a weapon with indiscriminate suffering as the goal—no one's going to tell you how to wield yourself, and you might as well cause as much hurt as possible learning what you're capable of.

Maybe that's how the Fog thinks, or something. He wouldn't be surprised.

…Anyway. Lots of thoughts, not many words.]

If you don't know, I couldn't even begin to guess… I wouldn't be surprised if it trusted you to keep it safe, though, if you're really stronger than it now.

[…Stares at Silvally. Surely a kick or a bite from it would hurt pretty bad, right?]

[Gladion is made freshly aware on just about every day he goes into town, in big and small ways, just how different a place power has in people's lives here. It shapes those lives no less than it shaped lives in Alola, but having power is something that's treated so strangely—swinging between rare and exclusive and almost unseemly to display at all. Amongst humans, anyways. Monsters are a sort of exception; their power is expected, and its use is dreaded.

Or so Gladion has gathered.

The upshot: however Gladion feels about his own body's actual newfound power, it honestly seems a little more natural to be treated as a monster in that way than it did to be treated as human for the short month he still was, when he could nearly blend in in a world without Pokemon. After all, it was only a year ago that he was certain he wanted to be seen that way, wanted people to see Null marching at his side and know instantly from its strength that he was someone to be taken seriously. The reality of what monsters actually are taints it all—knowing that people are afraid for a completely different reason, and right to be afraid for it—but there's something noble-feeling about trying to embody restraint, this time around. It's a little like his pride in Silvally's hard-earned command of its powers, and a little like walking through Aether Paradise and swearing to himself that he won't make his mother's mistakes.

Anyways.]

I think you're right. [Which is, well, why he's so upset about bringing it here, ultimately.] It's a dramatic role reversal.

[Gladion sounded an awful lot like he wanted to let out a world-weary sigh, there. He has such a serious look on his face right now. He is taking this sentence and wrapping it up to tuck into one of the chambers of his heart. But we don't have to talk about that.]

...On the other hand. It also knows what being the scariest thing in the room is like. So, maybe that has something to do with it.

[Empathy for their situations. And a weird sort of kinship it automatically lacked with other Pokemon.]

Edited 2023-06-18 06:31 (UTC)

[Rindo glances back at Gladion when he speaks again, catching that expression. It's the Silvally guilt again, isn't it. He's already decided that he won't push the matter right now, but there'll be a chance later, right? This doesn't sit well with him at all. He's trying hard to not second-guess himself.

Anyway. He'd hardly even been around humans since his changes started, but a handful of bus trips was more than enough for him to get a sense of his new position as a monster. Of course he was stared at—he's a green freak with roots for feet.

…A little internal wince at that description. Gladion's a Nymph, too. He shouldn't think that.

The changes have been so sudden that his mind still reels from this new reality. Back in Shibuya, between emerging fashions, tourists from the world over, and eccentric people, strange-looking folks were an all-too-common sight that made it easy to blend in and dodge attention. No one cared. For someone like Rindo, it was a boon.

Here, such avoidance is no longer a possibility. The scariest thing in the room… he supposes he is, now. Whether he wants to or not, he embodies a threat. It probably doesn't matter to the humans of Ryslig that he's a scavenger with no intent to kill—to them, he's still automatically a murderer, or at least someone with the potential to be. It feels unfair and yet deserved. It's not like he can blame anyone for fearing him, at any rate.

If Silvally knows what that's like, then Gladion's theory makes all too much sense. His gaze lands on Silvally again with a pang of sympathy and a quiet sigh.]

That makes sense to me.

[…And now a cold silent thing is gripping at his heart, creeping up again and again from the well of misery that is Ryslig, always finding new angles to torment him with. His stare grows distant.

Perhaps it's selfish, but Rindo is glad that Silvally and Gladion are here. And he's sure Silvally is happy to be reunited with its partner, too. Surely that's worth something—for him and Gladion, and for Gladion and Silvally.]

[Definitely hit a nerve, there. It'd be shocking if he didn't.]

It's not pleasant to think about.

[That's Gladionese for "I see you having a moment and that's valid". Without uncrossing his arms, he's wandered out a little further from under the branches of the Oran tree, aimlessly into the yard.]

[Rindo stays behind for a minute or two, tops. Just enough time to let the worst of it pass. After another sigh, he catches up with Gladion, idly staring around at whatever catches his attention. Without looking at him, and in a sort of artificially detached manner, he comments:]

…Y'know, your world sounds a lot more interesting than mine.

[If you were inclined to read self-depreciation and vague envy into that statement, you would in fact be correct.]

[Oh.]

Isn't that a matter of perspective? [That's the near-automatic, sort of...diplomatic answer. And then the second, far less defensive reaction:] I was under the impression that it has...hidden depths [slight awkwardness here where he fails to come up with a better name for it] you hadn't encountered yet. But that's not what you mean, is it.

[So, like, what do you mean...]

[Yeah, it is a matter of perspective, and that's kind of where the problem lies, isn't it? He knows Gladion means that as in, of course your own world will seem mundane to you, but…

What does he mean, actually?]

I mean… I'm not ever gonna get to see those "hidden depths." So as far as I'm concerned, they might as well not be there.

[That's not even true. If anything, they're taunting him.

This is a mess. Where is this even going. Unexpected venting?]

…Sorry. I don't even know.

[…Ugh. Well, he's certainly done a fine job of ruining that interaction.]

Maybe I can just… tell you about my world. Like, the normal parts…

[And then maybe Gladion will get why he said what he said?]

[...He thinks he gets it. Maybe a corner of it. It's not about their worlds so much as their lives; Rindo feels left behind, hand in hand with what's going on with his housemates. Does he want a more interesting life, though? He doesn't otherwise seem like he does.

Gladion turns in place, ears flicking upright with piqued interest.]

Go ahead. [...Or rather:] Let's go sit on the balcony. [But Rindo can talk while they walk, too.]

[That's about the size of it. And, indeed, Rindo wasn't particularly looking for fame, or adventure, or anything grand like that. It's more about wanting some kind of direction. Back home, he was free to take his sweet time figuring everything out, but now the rug's been pulled from under him, and now both safety and the promise of a future had disappeared from his life all at once.

He's not taking it well.]

…Sure.

[They start walking, but Rindo doesn't speak up right away. He's trying to figure out how to explain… Probably should use Gladion's own world and Ryslig as points of reference.]

So… basically, my world is like this one, but without all the monsters and magic stuff, and it's got more modern technology. Ryslig is like… a good fifty years behind, if you ignore the Cube. Also, we don't have anything like Pokémon. Just pets and wild animals, I guess.

[A short pause.]

I'm from Japan, but this place is a lot like another country from my world called Sweden.

[They don't have any deck furniture, but they can sit against the railing. Or on it. Gladion's opting for on it, looking out over the yard.]

I've heard a little about it. Yours must be one of the ones that are all closely related to each other, with the same places and countries.

[Rindo mimics Gladion, staring into the middle distance.]

Mmh… I actually met someone who came from the same city, but in a different world. Guess it's a common thing, then.

Maybe there's not much for me to explain, if you're already familiar. My life was just… normal.

"Familiar" is a stretch. I know some of the parallels between those worlds and mine. Broad strokes.

…Fair enough.

[Rindo assumes that his and Akira's worlds are extremely similar, but there could well be something extremely different between them that neither of them bothered mentioning.

…He has an idea.]

Maybe we should go to the Cube sometime? You could show me your world, and I'd show you mine. It'd be way easier than trying to explain all the little details.

[…And hopefully he can keep it together in front of Gladion, because seeing Shibuya again knowing he can't go back is, to say the least, a fraught experience.]

[—A cold feeling in his gut. Trepidation and surprise.

Gladion blinks.]

...It's safe?

[At the same time, he thinks: of course it is, otherwise people wouldn't use it.]

[Rindo blinks twice and shoots a dumbfounded glance at Gladion. The question echoes his own from a few weeks back.]

Swa… Er, Shoka would never have taken me there if it wasn't.

[It's said with complete, uncharacteristic confidence, without even a second's pause to think.

Then a few moments later, the nature of Ryslig catches up with Rindo and makes him wince, because of course there has to be a reason for Gladion's reaction, and it can't possibly be anything good.]

…Did… something happen with it, or…?

[…or what? There's a sheepish tone to the inquiry, an indication that Rindo has no plans to push the matter if it makes Gladion uncomfortable, despite his curiosity.]

[Composure returned:] I've never been. I just know it's one of Elias' inventions.

[...Looks back out at the yard.]

So is the network, to be fair.

You don't trust Elias?

[It's a very matter-of-fact question, its tone anything but accusatory. Rindo himself doesn't know much about the gods beyond what was in the Lighthouse guide, vague mentions of past events on the network, and whatever facts the household volunteered.

Swallow is one of Elias's followers, but she doesn't seem… invested in the whole god thing. He's wary on principle, of course—it would all sound sketchy even if they weren't in Ryslig. But between the Cube and the earplugs, he couldn't deny that Elias had been a positive influence (so far, at least).]

Not for an instant. [Gladion doesn't say this vehemently. It's very...plain.] Felfri was another of his inventions. He's not any friendlier than the Fog, just less influential. A useful evil at best.

Oh…

[…Should he avoid the Cube, then? But Swallow said it was okay…

He'd ask about Felfri, but… it can't be anything good. Gladion surely doesn't need to be reminded of bad memories, and he doesn't need more things to be worried about. The same reasons they didn't talk about the Pale Fog, really.]

For what it's worth, nothing bad happened at the Cube when we went, but if you don't want to go, that's… I get it.

[He sounds a little disappointed, but he’s not holding it against Gladion or anything.]

...No, it's safe if it's safe. I don't have any secret knowledge about it that your friends don't. I haven't even been there.

[Though he's thinking now about what he wouldn't have noticed at the time, ignorant of Ryslig as he was...for others, Felfri returned them to what they were. There's a connection there.]

It's impossible to avoid the influence of those gods entirely, between the network and the changes. Even their followers aren't necessarily dangerous to anyone and everyone. You just can't trust them or underestimate them.

[…Oh. Okay.]

Well, if you ever feel like checking it out, I can show you how it works.

[The comment on god followers puts Rindo on edge, though. You can't trust them? But he trusts Swallow… Rindo understands being wary of the whole thing—he certainly is—but… Ugh. How is he supposed to figure out the correct course of action if the two people he trusts the most in this place are in disagreement with one another?

…Then again… Gladion hadn't seemed to take issue with Swallow. Does he even know she's a follower of Elias?

He's going to need to give this some more thought.]

Um… are there, like… red flags to look out for with god followers?

[…He figures that's just useful to know, in general.]

I'm interested.

[Ironically, he'd meant the gods themselves. So Gladion is oblivious to Rindo's turmoil, still thinking about the Cube...

He looks up at the question, expression turning pensive again.]

Red flags... [Whew. What a question. He thinks there are, but...]

...Followers seem to cause the most trouble out of ignorance, or arrogance. Sometimes it's a personal problem they think they need to drag everyone into, and their god helps them do it. Takes advantage of their desire. As it were. Other followers [Beat.] put too much trust in the gods and then get surprised when the consequences of supporting them get out of hand.

[Thinking...]

My employer, at the cafe, is a Fog follower. One of the better-known around here. [For other reasons he has to politely admit.] I trust her anyways. She's...[how does he put this?]...faithful to her words, and doesn't act recklessly.

All right. It's super realistic, you'll see. I'm pretty sure you could even simulate Pokémon if you wanted.

[…Beyond being impressed that the Cube can emulate FanGO with the level of fidelity that it does, there's the fact that it can recreate the Scramble Crossing perfectly, as far as he can tell. So, whatever Gladion's world may be like, Rindo is reasonably certain that the Cube can give an accurate idea of it. Ryslig may be awful, but getting to see literal other worlds is at least kind of cool.

Gladion's measured response on god followers is… reassuring, actually.]

…So it's a case-by-case basis type of thing, I guess. Like, just don't get in too deep with the gods.

Not unless you know exactly what you're doing, and can accept responsibility for what might happen anyways.

[Which obviously is not the standard that practically anyone else here uses, but it's Gladion's, and he sounds very certain in it. There's something stubborn brewing in his eyes, as he leans back on his hands.]

...Maybe none of us asked for the power we have here, but that doesn't mean we're not accountable for what we can decide to do with it.

[Rindo can agree with that—the reasoning makes sense. Getting involved sounds like it's only asking for trouble, and he trusts neither the gods' intentions, nor himself to deal with the responsibility. He'd rather stay clear.

…But when it comes to changes, they don't have the luxury of making that choice. He sighs.]

Makes sense to me. I… I know I don't want to hurt anyone.

[And yet, his body has still been made into a weapon that's meant to do just that. He glances down at his roots, recalling how they pointedly avoided Gladion even though he was hungry. It's done a lot to reassure him that they won't just go out of control and attack people as long as he keeps himself fed, but… well, "keeping himself fed" implies regular murders, and there's no way for him to remove himself from the equation to limit harm.]

…At least we're Nymphs.

[Said with the weight of tacit, shared understanding. It's about the scavenging, of course, but more is hidden besides the obvious—everything surrounding it. The guilt, the distance, the loneliness.]

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cw: implied suicidal ideation

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