golisolation | 💀 MoM IC INBOX 💀

[Yes indeed does Golisopod want some attention, he's finished his snack, and now he wants to feast on attention. However, even with that being the case, it doesn't mean the Pokémon isn't paying attention to the situation. Same goes for the others, but particularly Scizor who seems to be watching Guzma more than Lucina as the conversation unfolds.

The unease in Guzma certainly calls for attention, and Scizor knows what happened last time Guzma was talking with someone he didn't like too much. The fight that broke out, that his trainer ultimately paid for with his pride.]

Yeah? That's life.

[He gestures a bit broadly with his arms as he talks, dismissive and snotty.]

Don't matter what you do, there's always a struggle, always a fight. Difficulty is the only certainty we got, and that's why the strong are the ones who'll survive it.

People like you want to pretend there's this code of conduct to being strong, when that's all arbitrary silly garbage thought up by people too scared to deal with what they don't—no, what they choose to not understand. I know it ain't the end yet, but like I said: I ain't ever gonna change, so the end don't need to be here for me to know how it'll go down, yo!

[despite Golisopod's happy titters, Lucina wears a faint frown as she listens to him growl his point.

people like her is...maybe something not so directly her, she considers. she hopes, despite the odds, that it's so; he knows so little of her, after all. it might sting her pride to be spoken poorly of, but she can't take every barb directly to her heart; she'd have never made it a month through Aegis if she had!

it hurts to hear such an adamant claim like that. to the end. to what end?

while her eyes linger downward in thought:] ...As you say.

[gods, but she wants to argue for herself. to what end, though? he'd hardly care.]

[To his end, he means. Dark and dismal as it may be, it's not like Guzma isn't aware of how he courts destruction with his recklessness. With his abrasive nature, how he jumps to a fight like its an involuntary reaction. For as self-centered and egotistical he is, there's an alarming lack of self-preservation in how he acts and cares for himself. That is to say, he doesn't care for himself at all.

Self-hatred is one hell of a drug.

Yet, even as Lucina backs down, which one might assume is what Guzma wanted, it seems to piss him off. Maybe it's because this started to become a confrontation, and now she's denying him the satisfaction of one, or maybe he's just needing to blow some steam. Whatever it is, he doesn't seem to want to let this go.]

That's it? Really? That's all you got to say, huh?

[His face twists into an ugly mix of frustration and disgust.]

For someone fronting that they wanna understand, you sure don't put in the legwork for it, huh?

Letting you say your piece... [she pauses, needing the beat to keep her voice level as she looks back and sees such unpleasantness glared her way.] It is part of it. You say someone like me...whatever that means to you, chooses to look past the things they don't understand. Part of understanding is listening. I'm choosing to listen, not...step over and correct whatever I hear that sounds wrong to me. Not right now.

[but the way her face has gotten a bit pinker, it shows there's effort in restraint. she's not a naturally cool cucumber, this is an intentional effort.]

Oh.

[He looks a little taken aback by her answer. He's so used to either being met head on with opposition, or people running away, that when he's met with something between the two—someone actually willing to listen to him, he's uncertain on how to parse it. Mainly because of how he categorizes Lucina. See, Archie is someone who listens, and he feels free to talk to. He's an ally. Lucina isn't, so the fact she's acting this way, letting him say his piece?

It's weird, and he feels apprehensive about it. He slips his hands back into his pockets, looking at her a bit more fully than the side-long stare he was giving her just before, shifting a bit.]

Uh...

[Eloquent.

Funny how you seem to have too much to say when no one wants to listen, but then when given the chance, the words seem to have vanished. Scizor looks between the two, trying to read the situation, but he's left a little puzzled. It's okay buddy, Guzma is too.

This is not where he thought this would go.]

Yeah—well!

[He huffs, trying to gain traction again after being derailed]

Fine, you wanna understand me? You wanna know why Big Bad Guzma is the way he is? Then lets do this, I ain't got nothing to lose.

[Of course he has no plan to tell her more than what's needed, but if she wants to act like she's willing to take the time to understand him, then he's going to put the proof to the test. See just how much she's actually full of shit.]

Go on, then. I'll let you ask your questions, I'm sure you got 'em.

[Right now he's banking on her bluffing. That she doesn't actually have any desire to understand him, so she won't actually have anything to ask him, and thus he won't have anything to answer.]

[Lucina's eyebrows raise.

honestly, she's surprised he didn't shut this all down. say something obnoxiously empty but just insulting enough to tip her patience. it's surprising to see him puff up, bristle...and then deflate, scowling all the same, but...actually humoring her?

her heart thumps. did...is she doing the right thing? diplomacy has always been the weakest of her skills, but gods, she's been trying. it's easier to see the fruits of one's efforts when it's things like lifting weights or swinging swords, but this?

she had better make good use of this chance; she knows it may not come again so easily. or ever.]

Then... [she's still stuck on him accusing her of choosing to ignore things.] Then what are the things...those people. People like me, you say, choose to overlook or not understand?

Edited 2019-09-03 01:33 (UTC)

[Guzma would blame that the Pokémon influenced him by being so damn happy around her, that maybe under different circumstances he'd shut this down. Or, maybe after so long of being shut down himself, that being offered an honest chance to be understood by someone who somewhat represents this world's version of the very thing he's fighting against back home, he's in a similar position. Here's a rare chance, one he might not be offered again, and while he struggles to make peace with himself for indulging in it, wondering if he's being weak right now, he can't turn it down.

After all, part of why he fights against being understood when people offer to try, is because he's been rejected for so long by people unwilling to. That he's been made to believe he isn't something to understand, that him and his are those to ignore and revile without reprieve. The unwanted, the undesirable, the unfit.

The "bad".]

That we ain't all the same.

[He offers gruffly, but without hesitance. There's a genuineness to how he answers that's as equally rough.]

This world—every world—ain't a "One Size Fits All" type of place. Not everyone can abide by the same standards, by the same rules—our circumstances ain't always the same. But, those who can't conform are cast aside and forgotten.

You high and mighty types, y'all just love crushing anything y'all don't like—anything different, anything abnormal.

By y'all standards, it's your right to, huh?

Edited 2019-09-03 01:51 (UTC)

[she doesn't answer, her mouth pursed into a thoughtful line.

he's still a fairly recent imPort, so what he's been witness to is...a great deal of chaos, and a lot of it with history. is that why he says crush...? it's certainly not always that. and often a last resort. for the sake of others...

it's not wrong to fight to protect the innocent. she won't hear him say it is. she'd better not.

her fingers had trailed off, but Golisopod making a sound snaps her back into scritching once more.]

...What of compromise? What do you think of that?

[Chaos is something he can deal with, and something he prefers. His problem is more the control that the other imPorts seem to think they have a right to enact on others. Like they're the authority, like they're better.]

I don't think it's something that can happen.

[His certainty is pretty clear on the topic, but his head tilts curiously.]

But! You're hearin' me out, so I'll hear you out. Whaddaya got in mind?

[her eyebrows raise, quiet a beat. what, so he can mock her efforts? or is this...actual intention to listen? like getting like in turn. she'll be impressed if it is.

after licking her lips in thought, she lets out a sigh.]

I wish...I had a clearer picture. Things were much more black and white where I came from. The lines were already drawn before I had to pick up the sword. It's why I can't make such grand, altering choices on my own. It's why I'm still trying to learn from the others who have been here longer, the ones freshly here...and all the people who have been born here, here all along.

[and gods, it's hard. every day, something can tip the scales this way or that, and she has to be fast on her feet to react. even when it hurts. especially when it hurts. when it makes her better or worse...she still has to react.

she looks past him, her expression growing somewhat cloudy.]

The answers...change by the day, I think. There's nothing ironclad here except for change itself. That's more apparent these days than ever before.

...I'm sorry. I've never had a true answer. If that's what you thought I had, well... [her mouth tugs a grim smirk as she shrugs.]

[For his part, he does listen, his expression hard and serious, but he doesn't seem to be ignoring what she's saying. He does seem to be listening, even if she gives basically a non-answer. Can't say he's surprised, he already could tell she's more of a swordswoman than a wordsmith, let alone a strategist. However, he doesn't seem too terribly bothered by this fact, shrugging his shoulders a bit casually.]

I feel that. [He says that bit pretty plainly, no edge to his voice, just honesty.] This world is a bit more complex in ways I didn't expect—I come from a smaller island society—puny compared to this place.

Everything scales, yo. More people, more opinions, more problems. Gets all the more messy when you have foreigners bustin' in the place, makin' changes, and asserting themselves like they own the place.

I don't envy the natives here.

[Maybe a little bit of a tangent, but he doesn't care.]

That's why I don't think a compromise can be met, yo. It ain't a matter of just two dudes coming at each other over a slight—there's too many parts, too many people. And someone's bound to get shafted—and it'll always be those like me.

Those who can't change, fighting against those who won't. Compromise ain't the answer here.

[Fortunately, the Pokémon for the most part have taken to entertaining themselves, or napping. Pinsir is picking up sticks and breaking them (Ariados still on him), Masquerain has perched onto Golisopod's back for a snooze, Scizor is watching the two diligently from a seated position on the grass, Mightyena and Crobat seem to be chatting it up among themselves. Crobat might have attempted to get Scizor involved in the conversation, he's been unfortunately ignored, poor buddy.]

[how can he be so sure? if his world was so different, so less broad... Lucina's brow knits as she presses her lips into a thin line once more, her eyes flickering over toward the sound of Mightyena and Crobat's strange, interspecies chatter.]

...I don't know, Guzma. [she says at length, looking back.] I only know that...I wouldn't be myself if I gave up trying. I don't want to give up on anyone, or...any chance there can be greater peace for everyone here. Even the smallest chance counts for more than nothing, I think.

[it can be too idealistic, too fanciful...but it's very much ingrained in her. she is her father's daughter, after all, and common sense never stopped him from pursuing what he believed in, either.

she pauses for a beat before offering the basket to him.]

Here. They're all for you and your friends. I think you'll know better where to plant the extras, so they'll have plenty more to follow.

[It's far less that he is sure, and far more that he can't afford putting that sort of trust in people anymore. To compromise, is to allow anyone else some form of power. It's to pretend to be equal, when he knows no one truly wants that. They'll say it, they'll pretend it, for the sake of biding time, but anyone who has power is not going to give it up without a fight. No one wants to be taken down from their lofty position of superiority, and they certainly don't want to raise anyone else up to join them.

He watches her as she says her piece, unsure what to make of it. Unsure what to make of her, honestly. Towards the end, he looks away for a moment, seemingly lost in thought, before the gesture catches his attention. He stares at the basket, then to her, before taking it. Again his eyes fall to it, looking over the contents—there's certainly a good amount, she didn't stiff him at all.]

...They'll appreciate it, bunch of bleedin' hearts, tch...

[He does too, but he won't say that. Even if Golisopod is giving him a knowing look. Guzma ignores it. It almost seems like he's going to drop the previous topic entirely, but then he levels a conflicted sort of stare at her.]

Tell me. [There's an uncomfortable pause, as if he's really considering his next words carefully.] You want peace for everyone, or so you're frontin'—but how honest is that, huh?

What about those who're like me, do we truly fit in with your "greater peace"? The ones who don't quite play by your rules? Do you actually want peace for us, or are you assuming we all have the same idea of "peace"? Are we just another problem to fix, just more people to beat into submission so the rest of y'all can chill, never givin' another fuck about us loud and angry assholes ruinin' your perfect paradise?

[she shakes her head at that last bit.] There is no perfect paradise, Guzma. Only the effort to find better. [an endless climb. it's sometimes so impossibly far as to be disheartening and too heavy to hold, but at other times the greatest source of inspiration there is... and never either of those things forever.

Guzma definitely could've let her fall to her death that time. or not bothered to cooperate with her and the rest of Aegis at the OTO base -- instead wreaking havoc to suit his own selfish pleasures. that, in some ways, is compromise of choice. more is possible. there has to be, because that's what life lived among others demands.

she turns partly away from him, stepping more toward the cluster of Pokemon, but keeps her talk directed his way.]

I remember my father telling me once...that all people, no matter where they're from or what they become, want happiness. The shapes that happiness take are what make all the difference between cohesion or conflict. Sometimes I forget that...but it is true, isn't it? So I can't take things so lightly.

[at that, she does turn away from him, holding her hand out for Mightyena to pad over and smush his nose against.]

But if someone's happiness comes at the cost of lives...it can't be that way. So I'll put my happiness aside to make sure others will be safe to find theirs. And if that means being one of those people stood up front to take the brunt of people's anger against it...so be it.

[He gives her a flat look at the start of her response. He's well aware of there not being a perfect paradise, and how that's a fantastical pipe dream. Doesn't change the fact people think they can achieve it, that they'll ignore and shun any that mar the shallow surface of that deluded fantasy. That any who aren't able to fit into their role, who can't pretend that everything is right and perfect, are cast aside and forgotten.

Living proof of a society's mistakes, yet it isn't the society, nor the people who perpetuate such an absurdity that pays the price. No, it's people like Guzma, people like Team Skull who bear their scorn. Who suffer, and continue to suffer, as they're ignored and treated like strangers in their own home.

As she begins to talk about her father, Guzma's eyes fall back to the berries. He attempts to make it look casual, more like he's not interested in what she's saying, than the fact hearing her mention her father made him think about his for even a second. The thought pressed far from his mind not too long after, and he's glad that her attention seems to be on the Pokémon and not him for that momentary discomfort.

His eyes flick back to her when she mentions sacrificing her own happiness for others, a scowl appearing on his face. Even if Mightyena is being way cute as he does indeed smush his nose against her hand, it's not enough to distract Guzma from his irritation.]

I've never got that, yo.

What's the point of givin' up your own happiness so others can be happy, huh? What about you—why is your happiness less valuable than the rest? Ain't you deserving of it?

Or...is this some self-important high-and-mighty way of thinking? Like you're righteous and better 'cos you're doing some grand display of being a martyr, and you're gracious enough to allow people their happiness?

[Guzma shakes his head, shrugging with annoyance.]

Your old man ain't wrong—happiness comes in all different forms and shapes, and sometimes your happiness don't fit, and it never will. Or maybe it ain't the happiness that's a poor fit, but you. Hate to break it to you, princess, but some people are meant to be miserable and spiteful their whole lives, 'cos what they need ain't ever gonna get met. So, the best they can do is fight for it, take what they can, and crush any who stands in their way—and even after all that, who's to say they're even gonna get it—but you gotta do what you gotta do to survive, right?

[Happiness, being a trial captain, belonging in a society that you so loved at one point... to Guzma, those things were one in the same, and all were certainly denied to him because he wasn't a good fit. He was too angry. He was too damaged, and the damage wasn't even his fault, but it's the ball and chain the keeps him down and holds him back.

Again, and again, and again...]

So, it must be nice, huh? To actually have the choice to give that up. Sure wonder what that's like, tch...

[He might be getting a little riled at this point, and it's far less because of anything Lucina's done. Well, the topic has kind of kicked up some thoughts, and some bad memories. His mind wanders to Kukui, his face scrunches with annoyance and distaste, before he looks away. From not only Lucina, but the Pokémon as well, his gaze settling on nothing of note. Childishly, he just doesn't even wanna look at her right now, or his temper might get the better of him.]

Are you saying you have none?

[she looks over her shoulder, frowning deeply, looking at him as if he were some kind of cubist painting. all his accusations of superiority rankle in a familiar way, but they're not the focus she wants -- not when he talks so much more about being condemned to misery.]

Even here. In this world? You have no choice at all?

[or is he mired in resentments from his own world? miseries dragged like weighted chains...to even suggest she'd relate at all would doubtless have him throw a fit, so she won't even bother. this isn't about her.]

[Her question does catch him, and he glances at her for a second, before shrugging his shoulders indignantly.]

What choice do I have, huh?

[Turning to face her more fully, he gestures with the hand that isn't holding the basket.]

Lay down and expose my belly? Trust y'all won't gut me should the mood strike—hope that I won't be stepped on, crushed, and forgotten? That, maybe, this time I'll be worth something in anyone's eyes?

Tch... ain't no one got time to be that blindly optimistic, not when life is as wack as it is. I've seen how ugly shit can be, and ain't nothing or nobody gonna make me forget life's true face.

What are you saying?

[now she looks at him like he's a cubist painting that's contracted chicken pox. turning back toward him, even with a hand still lingering on Mightyena, her brow knits as she tries to follow this very...fatalistic view.]

Guzma, you...in this place, you have...more than so many have right at the get-go. Work, if you choose to take it. Money, if you choose to accept it. A place to live, if you choose to stay there. And so many people to offer help! If you choose to ask...

[there's a bit more fire in her tone, just out of sheer passion to convey the value she sees in her points. it's like trying to communicate in a broken language, almost.]

This place is almost nothing but choice and chance. This whole world, it--it's still alive! It... [her eyes wince a little.] It still has a future. And with so many people, so many places...so much can be done or undone, just on how people assert themselves. Or don't...

[it's a 180 from what she had been pulled from, where even a goddess herself looked down at Lucina and just shook her head and told her there was nothing left to save.]

[In return, Guzma just glowers at her, like what she's saying is some absurd notion—bait to a trap that he can't allow himself to take. Even if he can't see the wire, can't see any evidence of the trap he thinks the bait is attached to. He's been hurt too many times, that he'll sooner imagine danger when there is none, than to assume there's none when there is.]

And you just trust it all? Just like that?

[With the raise of both their voices, now all the Pokémon are looking at them, some expressions more worried than anything, while Scizor's is still stoic and unmoved—staring Lucina down now.]

You honestly think there ain't a catch? There ain't nothing sketch about this whole thing? Being brought here unexpectedly, handed all these consolations to appease us—so we'll be complacent? So we'll be content, not ask questions, and play along with whatever they want? Tch!

[He lets out an annoyed grunt, snarling a bit as he continues to glare at her.]

Maybe I ain't got room to talk, but god you're fuckin' stupid if you believe this ain't nothing but a gesture of good will. They really pulled the wool over your eyes, huh?!

Y'all the fucking same, can't see past the fronting, all y'all care about is what's at the surface, nothing deeper.

That isn't true. Whether you want to believe it or not, it isn't. [she tempers herself, pausing for a moment just to press her lips into a line to steady.]

None of this is a game. The history behind this...it's more than what one can study and dissect in a sitting. But it doesn't change the fact that we're all here. We can still choose to move forward, because everything is whether we want it to or not. For all the hurt and friction it can cause, it...it only seems fair to try and seek some peace!

[she huffs out a breath, dipping her head for a moment and just combing at her bangs for lack of productive things she can do with her hands in a situation like this. the fall to her sides in the end anyway as she shoots him a strained look.]

A lot of those appeals...they're made out of fear. Yes. For what horrible things have happened here? The irreparable damages, disasters... [she hesitates.] Yes. It's a compromise. A bargain to find some means to appease unknown threats. And I don't wholly blame them being in place as they are. Maybe you do, but...no one is forcing you to bend. You choose. Everyone here does.

Whatever comes of it all...it's not a foregone conclusion. It's not. There'd be no point to doing anything one way or the other if it was.

Who said anything about this being a game? The history don't matter, it's fucked up, and we're stuck in this mess. The rules are the same as they are everywhere else: conform or die.

[He puts his free hand on his hip, as he leans forward with a sneer.]

They offer dough, they offer a crib, they offer all sorts of crap, so long as you do what they want, what they demand. So long as you follow their rules. You don't get that unless you agree to be a slave to their system. What kinda choice is that? How is any of that a compromise when we ain't never asked to even come here, huh?!

A place of choice and chance... Really? Do or die—ain't what I'd call choice and chance, yo.

Edited 2019-09-07 02:08 (UTC)

Is that really all you see to it? Really? [she looks pained.]

Guzma, there's more nuance to this than that! If there wasn't, then you'd not be roaming as you please right now, right? If there wasn't, I'd never be given the choice to take arms with Aegis. There would be no imPort businesses. No hospital in De Chima. No ambassadors, no choice!

[she finds her hands have lifted in a strained gesture, fists clenching and unclenching for lack of real, tactile knots to grasp and pull at. she draws back again, another effort to keep her passion for this at bay despite a want to do more.]

I don't know what the world before here did to you. To others. So I know I'll never truly see with your eyes, but... [she hesitates, her expression wincing. she can't reason so easily on the fly, not with a dozen other impassioned thoughts buzzing through her head.

another huffed exhale. she shakes her head, shifting her weight to lean somewhat away as she looks past him.]

There's so much more to all of this. It doesn't have to be wholesale...thrown aside.

Is there—or have they got you so fooled you can't see through the shit?

[Her passion is certainly something, but it just emboldens his own. He's been tied up and held down by the constraints of society for too long to think this is anything different. At the end of the day, the men at the top stay there by lifting themselves on the backs of those unwilling to destabilize them. The ones who get heels dug into their faces, and give thanks and gratitude for it.

He tilts his head, that aggressive sneer still on his face as it twists with frustration.]

Aiight, you got Aegis—but you gonna tell me that Aegis is completely detached from the government here? That there ain't no one y'all answer to? Ain't no one keeping tabs on what y'all doing? You act completely freely, and ain't playing by nobody's rules but y'all's own?

[He shakes his head, his hand clenching the basket's handle getting so tight, it starts to break and snap.]

Don't get me twisted, though.

I ain't sayin' they're putting a gun to our heads and saying we gotta do it or be shot—nah, that shit gets too much attention. It's too obvious, that sorta shit gets an equal reaction. What they're doing? That shit is wicked insidious, it's sneaky and honestly pretty damn clever, I admit. You can't go tellin' me it ain't just as cruel to rip dudes from all over the place, bring 'em here, and then if they ain't agreeing to their terms, they kick 'em out to fend for themselves in some unknown world!

Hell—even their own ain't taken care of by 'em, and you expect me to just trust all this?

No.

[red-faced, plainly frustrated herself, she can't just deflate and give up. it's not her nature to leave something so half-done, even if it hurts.]

Aegis was designed to work in tandem with the government. That was Jacob's will from the onset. Not to be separate, above, or below. As even a ground as one can have, when everything is so unstable. It's not perfect. It can't be. But it's an effort to help level the field for everyone -- imPort and natural-born alike!

We try. We make headway. We...we fail. And then we get up and we try again. Because that's part of living and, and living together. The things that are bad? We don't want worse. So we try to help. And it's not easy, and it's not fair, but we'll do it so no one else has to suffer the same way.

No one asked for this situation, Guzma. Not that government, not the imPorts. And if they did? That was so long ago. And you don't care about the history, so what would it matter if they did?

[she stops, having to mindfully relax her shoulders, quiet her tone.]

It's worth trying. Believe otherwise if you want, but it's still worth trying. Otherwise, everyone languishes in bitterness, blind to the chance to find a better day.

[she hates how much she can hear Fortunato's despair in her thoughts, still seeded and knotted in her heart. this is not helping. she's not helping. she swallows, shakes her head, and turns away, starting away.]

Enjoy the berries.

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