Set in the original region of Arciel, Legends Rising is a route-inspired, but not strictly route-based, Pokemon roleplay. Pick a faction, pick a class, and strike out into the wild to take on the League, master Contest coordination, research the mysteries of Pokemon and Arciel, and much, much more. Will you be a classic trainer? A criminal? A farmer? Choose your destiny on Legends Rising.
Magical, no, this was more than magical. It was welcomed. She hadn't felt this way in a long time, being in somebodies arms, feeling so warm, for a moment at the lack of response her gaze went to move to the strangers, to see what had happened- only to feel a gasp rip through her as she was all but shoved away. Stumbling to get her balance the girls eyes widened, confused, her hands moving out as if to grab the stranger- they must have just fallen out of step- they must have-
Ice filled her heart as she heard her name uttered. This was a masquerade ball- this- how did... Her hands moved back to her chest, eyes wide, glancing left, glancing right, confused, afraid. "What..?" Was all that left her lips, she didn't know what was going on, she didn't know how to feel. She should be terrified of people hearing the stranger, recognising her name and coming for autographs, but all she could think of was the sudden hurt she felt in her chest- funny how that worked. Being ripped away so suddenly from somethi-
Fuck. Fuck?! Arietta began shaking as the stranger pulled down their mask- her heart dropping to the stone cold bottom of her chest upon realization that this, infact was not a stranger. It was..."Fu...G...Gabe?" What the actual fuck- suddenly, suddenly everything made sense. But yet, nothing did. How Arceus wanted to test her, to ruin her life even more- how ironic that she'd come here to escape the very mess that Gabe and Koray had caused, to connect with Gabe through dance and then be ripped away from it so suddenly- what a fucking joke. She couldn't take this. She couldn't take this.
Oh, what a fucking practical joke this was. She couldn't utter anything else, she didn't know what to do, or to say, but she felt a soft sob well up in her throat, confused, afraid, terrified. What was this? Why was this- she didn't know. She didn't know. "...What... the actual fuck- a-are you- d-did you..." Her gaze moved around to see people staring, of course they were. They had been putting on a show, dancing around, and then suddenly Gabe had- she was frantic now. Had he known the whole time? Had he known?! Was this just another way to mess with her? Had breaking her phone and heart all over again not been enough?
Gabe didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or cry as his name was recognized in turn. He stared for a moment, his entire body taught under his clothes. Some part of him wanted to run. The other part of him wanted to fight. His gaze flicked from Ara to the onlookers and then back again. Gripping the strings of his mask again, he quickly concealed his features again. From behind his mask now, he chewed the inner lining of his mouth viciously.
How did she…. how did I…— Gabe’s mind had too many questions, and his chest was filling with too much dread. Did you… His gaze flicked back to Ara again. Did he what? Did he— “Plan this?” he suddenly snarled. “Plan to go to a ball with everyone in the fucking region and still run into you somehow???” he barked angrily. There was a tinge of hurt that he was desperately trying to conceal now.
Arietta felt a stranger dancing bump into her and hardly even flinched, she was desperate. Desperate for answers. Desperate for some sign to fall flat on her face and tell her that this funny little corner of her life was all planned out by some malicious fuckhead who wanted to watch her drown, but no, no. As Gabe spoke, anger whipping her like a lash she felt herself stepping backwards, away from him. Away from everything. He was right- of course he was fucking right. This was just the universes cruel joke- there was no way this was planned. No way it could have been orchestrated, and yet here they fucking were- coming down from a high in the cruelest way possible.
"I don't...N-No..." Left her lips, she glanced around again, searching for an exit, or for something to say- for her breath to come back, for some way to understand. But she couldn't find anything. Her hands moved to her hair, desperate to grab on to something- the green tendrils snaking through her fingers, yet they provided no comfort, no aid to the mess she'd just waltzed right into.
She continued shaking, not uttering a word, thinking, trying to think, think think think. "I don't... I don't understand-" She managed out, words etched with confusion, with hurt, with utter depseration for something- something other than what she was getting. Her hands clasped at her hair tighter as her head snapped back to Gabe- "What a c-cruel fucking joke- I don't..." Her hands dropped, only to clutch at the legs of her pants like they were life support, her voice, barely audible went "Fuck- fuck- fucking- Who's leaving the other again now, Gabe? What the fuck am I suppose to think or fucking do- I can't even bloody process-"
Her voice began to hitch and instead she crossed her arms over her chest. She needed the comfort back, she needed the warmth back. Part of her wished she could go back to a few minutes ago, so she could just... be happy- part of her wanted to make like cinderella and run. Run as far as she could before he got the chance to leave her a third time.
Ara was shaking. Gabe was shaking. His brain was flipping through every emotion under the sun and then a couple more just for good measure. He was so angry— how dare she ruin this night for him, but he was also so worried— for himself or for her? The lasting tendrils of empathy and warmth had not entirely left him yet. He was stuck— what… what the hell was either of them supposed to do now???
What a cruel joke. Gabe found his eyes staring down at the floor and flicked them up to see Ara still shaking and thinking. He stared watching her, and something tightened in his chest. Who’s leaving the other again now? It tightened and coiled in his guts. And suddenly Gabe was moving. Suddenly he was closing the distance between them and hugging around her briefly. He wouldn’t dare bring their faces together but instead leaned over her shoulder unmovingly for a moment. The pounding in his chest could practically be felt through his clothes.
“I…. I…. I apologize, Gardevoir…” Gabe blurted out. “I was … mistaken. You’re not… you’re not Ara, and I’m not Gabe.” It came as a mutter now as he tried to get his bearings on just what the fuck he was even saying. “For tonight, anyways.” His breath hitched. “We were just… just dancing…. We can just… keep dancing.” What was he even saying? Why was he even saying this? For her benefit or for his own? Damn it if he wasn’t shaking even then.
Her hands had tightened around herself as all she was met with was silence, was this her cue to just... to just run? To let Aumia free and snuggle with the pokemon until she was able to breathe again? How does somebody stop shaking? She felt like she was glued to the floor, unable to do anything, say anything- waiting for a cue to leave, to take stage left and throw up her heart- but that cue never came. Instead, she saw him move forward, and could barely comprehend what was happening. Arms held her for a moment in a hug, shaky, terrified arms. She didn't know whether to cry, to hug back, to rip herself out and bolt- she didn't... what did she do? What... what did she do?
This was Gabe, Arietta. This... this was Gabe.
She heard his voice, heard him saying words, but they took more than a few seconds to register, too caught up in her clashing brain to understand- until she did. He was shaking- his voice was breaking- he wanted to go back to a few minutes ago. But... was that even possible? Without realizing an arm wrapped around him, squeezing for a moment, not understanding, not knowing. A very weak, "...Are you...s-sure...?" Left her lips, "Is that even..." Her words died on her lips and she took a few uneven breaths. It was different. It would be different. She knew it was Gabe- Gabe who left her- Gabe her broke her phone- Gabe who she'd loved. How could she pretend otherwise- or force herself to?
Gabe. Gabe. Gabe. And she'd come here to dance to forget about Gabe- could she forget about Gabe when dancing with Gabe?! What? What... Again, she managed out an, "...Are...you really...sure?". Gabe, who hated her. Gabe, who wanted to dance.
Gabe didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what he wanted to do from there. He couldn’t begin to fathom how they could just go back to normal. But he didn’t want to lose, either. He didn’t want to stop. He just …. Are you sure? “I don’t know,” came as a puff of air, a forced noise, a struggled sound. Is that even… He bit the inside of his mouth hard to keep from saying anything right back. No, he wasn’t sure it was possible. No, he wasn’t sure it was healthy for either of them. No, they should both probably leave right then.
Are you really sure? But yes, yes he was. “I don’t want to fight… I don’t want to be angry….” he admitted. “Not right now.” He took a shaky breath. “I know you felt it too…. I t was …. Just fun. Just fun.” When had he danced like that last? When had he just wanted to show off like that? As many complex and horrible feelings as he had still burned inside, a greater desire still remained. He just wanted to be free to dance.
Arietta continued to fidget, unknowing. She couldn't explain how she was feeling, she didn't know the first thing to dwell upon. As his voice rose up she found herself weakly humming along in agreement... she didn't wanna fight, she didn't want to lose her utter shit on a night that was supposed to be an escape, a fancy getaway. She gulped down her terror, the hurt- no. No this was fine. Dancing... dancing was fun. She'd spent so much time teaching others to dance in the last few months, trying to forget about her recent heartbreak that she'd barely had time to focus on proper dancing- dancing for enjoyment- dancing with somebody who... knew how to.
Somebody who literally just let her have one of the best dance moments of the month, she couldn't deny that she felt giddy with excitment before, every step felt like second nature and it made her feel... alive. She adored it- and the way she came dressed, the effort she put in to getting everything together- to dye her hair- it'd be a shame to just... to just... leave, right?
"...Okay..." She managed out, her voice unsure, her shaking minimized. "We... pretend the last five minutes never happened- and we... never speak of this- i won't say anything on my blog- it's just... just a night between strangers." She nodded again, as if trying to convince herself that it was a good idea, that it would be fine. It totally would- totally. The beat had started picking up gain, she could feel more people begin to fill the dance floor- slow songs made people uncomfortable so she could... understand why. With a shaky offering of her hand she mumbled, "Then... How about a Jive... M-Mismagius?"
A shaky nervous breath escaped from Gabe. He wasn’t sure himself that he could forget long enough to truly enjoy himself again, but the lingering desperation remained clenched in his chest. He had to try. Even if it didn’t amount to anything— or especially because it didn’t. Because if they didn’t know each other, then it didn’t matter. “Ok…” he murmured softly back. That… that was fine. Easing back, he took a slow breath. They could handle this.
He became aware of the music only after she’d mentioned the step. “I’d….love to,” he answered clasping that hand and then her other— unwilling to touch her shoulder just then and thankful that the dance picked had some flexibility to it. Rather easily he fell back into step trying to keep his mind on the counting rather than anything now. Those who had been on the dance floor watching the entire screen seemed to grow bored and went back to their own dancing for now. Gabe was… very thankful for that too.
The jive was a sort of dance that was upbeat, funky, and a lot of fun when the steps were done in perfect synchronization- and in time with the beat. She found herself focusing on her feet, on her steps rather than on the person across from her- a big no-no rule of dancing, but she couldn't help it. Lot's of twists, lots of turns- a dance that should have been easy to get lost in. Fast, full of energy- but she was overthinking. Spinning, around, around, twisting- a little leg kick- Sloppy. Sloppy sloppy sloppy!
Arietta was a very touchy dancer, she knew this. Altering her partners as would fit the dance in miniscule ways, through a hand on their shoulder, on their back, their side, launching them into a high-kick, a spin. She didn't know if she should do that again, if that'd be okay? She didn't know... "...fuck it." Her eyebrows furrowed as she pushed herself into another spin, kicking her leg back before curling in and putting a hand on his shoulder, anchoring herself further to the beat. It was only for an 8 count, before a step-change, before a new count started, but she was at least able to pick herself up a little.
The silence felt heavy, but she wouldn't dare allow herself to say anything, not yet. Not now. She just had to get back in the beat, has to get lost in the sound again.
Ara’s— No Gardevoir’s— voice pulled Gabe from his forced mental count and careful step. His lips parted about to ask what she meant only to feel that hand pull from his own and set itself on his shoulder. Almost immediately, his own hand moved to her waist, bracing her just enough to give her the stability for such moves. And then it was gone again, and their hands were moving, and they were onto the other steps again. This time, though, when the count came around again, he moved more instinctively, shifting hands, positions, everything. He got a little closer.
The song went on, and Gabe realized he’d stopped counting. He was just moving now, fluidly with the partner before him. The feeling of ease was coming back to him in slow waves even as his arms and legs moved quickly now to the beat. As they twisted and twirled, he stepped forward and dipped her unexpectedly, a bit different from a traditional jive but…. “Gardevoir… your eyes shine so brightly.”
Arietta could feel herself getting back into rhythm again, a kick, a twirl- after her initial change in arm position G- Mismagious' head seemed, for the most part, to nudge back into the game. She could feel him moving, the steps seemed more fluid, and in turn she stopped stumbling, her kicks becoming more feisty, like it was second nature. Quick steps in time with the beat, fast turns- then she was dipped. A soft, unexpected gasp left her lips as she was practically made to look at him, further thrown into dissaray by the worlds that left his lips.
Well, fuck. She'd forgotten to put in contacts today- and those stupid words. The corner of her lips twitched up and a faint giggle left her lips, quickly righting herself back to jive position. "O-Oh?" she quickly shook her head and took offinto the jive again, no distractions, just enjoy yourself. Just feel the beat- just.
"...Perhaps my eyes shine brightly, but nothing can compare to your luscious, long locks and how they frame your form when you turn perfectly, Mismagius." Or you could do that, sure.
Gabe couldn’t help but grin— both at Gardevoir and himself. At least it (and some of the color on his features) was hidden behind that mask right then. It lasted for only a moment, though, as their steps began again in time with the movement. Or at least, that was what he thought until that voice hit his ears again. Gabe nearly miss-stepped, catching himself at the last second before fitting into place. She was… she was just playing. They were just playing. That was the point, right then. As strangers, they were swapping quips. That was all.
But that didn’t stop him from responding. “Thank you… I spent a long time growing it out. It would be a shame to cut it now,” he … half laughed at that. Of course… she was the one I grew it out for— No, brain. Not right now. Not…. Not right now. “But if we’re talking about frames… Gardevoir your frame is spectacular…. Such an elegant design.” Because of course he was complimenting her outfit. Of course.
A step back, around, forwards, focus on the length on your limbs, or carrying yourself with grace but add energy to the song, keep your back straight, eyes forward- words of dance teachers past echoed in her head as she moved around, trying to forget the words she just uttered, what was she getting at? What was she trying to say? Would it be taken the wrong way and would a screaming match begi-
Relax, Arietta. It was made clear, oh so very clear that this... this was just dancing. This was going to be fun. She focused on her moved, then focused on how her partner reacted to them- add a little spice here, a little twist here- her eyes flicked back up to meet his as he spoke. Right- a long time growing it out... he'd... been doing that for years now, right? His hair was unlike hers, it was alive, like out out of... a fairytale book? She had to try not to dwell on it, to focus on it. And she definitely didn't sweep her fingers through it for a brief moment amidst a turn.
Her eyes widened slightly as he continued, her... her frame?! Like... her... elegant design. Oh! Her pantsuit, of course. The girl's lips tightened and for extra affect she pushed out of of her legs mid-step, as if to show offf the flowyness of the material.
"A surprise pantsuit- simple to dance it, lovely to look at, and..." She paused, caught in the moment by moving herself around in another spin, and for a split second the inside of the pantsuit brushed up against him. "The internal parts are silk, which are smooth to the touch, and very handy for graceful movements~" She shouldn't mention a friend helped her make it, or how light it felt. She should just... keep things to a minimum.
"You say that, Mismagious, as if you don't fit a dress astoundingly- it really compliments you." Her voice was soft, she'd never seen him ever in a dress, it was a shock, a surprise but... no. "...when did you..." She cut herself off shook her head, instead forcing a grin on her face. She couldn't go on. It was fine. The beat began to change and she tilted her head, unsure what steps to transition into next.
Gabe’s eyes inadvertently followed that flowy gown-like pant leg, and he was thankful the mask concealed the warmth that touched his features. A forced laugh escaped from him as she explained what it was. “Very,” he agreed. It was lovely. She was lovely. Stop. He couldn’t, though, as part of her brushed up against him again. “Very lovely indeed…” he managed to breathe out.
The compliment that came after had him chuckling softly, swaying and turning with a little more flare than before— briefly giving or forcing her to play the masculine role for only a second or two. Yes, he really liked this one a lot… and liked showing it off to her right then. When did you— He paused too just as the beat began to change and stood still for a moment after. As his mind filled in the gaps, another thought occurred to him.
“I don’t identify as male exactly,” he stated. “Not anymore.” A small shrug was given. “Gender isn’t helpful….Just…. for your information….” He smirked behind his mask before pulling her into a Quickstep on rhythm this time.
Arietta couldn't help from giggling at how he showed off the outfit, her grip tightening slightly to ensure he stayed balance before quickly continuing on the dance, she shouldn't feel so floaty, but the music was slowly taking over again, latching onto her, and getting lost in it? Was a quick hop from here.
"I see~?" Ga- the Mismagius seemed more confident in themselves, and damn if a dress didn't fit them perfectly- he looked better in dresses than she did for fucks sake. Before she could say anything else however a surprised gasp left her lips, feeling the beat of the dance change, and then suddenly her eyes shone in recognition- a quick step?!
Bouncy, the girl let out a very quiet woop. Quickstep was one of her favoruite styles! It took her no time at all to fall into step with Mismagious, focusing on her footwork and the energy pulsing through her. "Do you still take dance?" Her head tilted slightly as she spoke, she at least knew Gabe danced like... when they were mid-teens, but being able to keep up the steps like that- being so good...
He’d forgotten how much she loved Quickstep. It was just a testament to muscle memory that he chose it, then, but of course he did. Of course. Each little step leading to the next— All of it seemed to flow together. The energy had him grinning all the more. “Not with a teacher,” he answered her question still focusing as not to misstep. “It’s been a little difficult over the years to find the time and the funds—“ What was he saying? Gabe’s mouth shut immediately as he realized somehow, they had come in too close again.
Spinning them both over and over again, Gabe gave a moment to breathe between them. “You move so fluidly; you must still practice regularly.” Maybe she couldn’t see it, but he could most definitely feel it in his bones: the sort of weariness he wouldn’t admit to right then. What the hell was stamina anymore?
She was practically jumping step to step, her legs and arms moving with added enthusiasm for good measure- practically a ball of energy, quickstep became an easy way to get it all out. Hearing he hadn't got a teacher she couldn't help but feel even more impressed, especially with how he was able to keep up, he didn't even seem puffed out! A spin here, a flick there, as he continued speaking but quickly cut himself off Arietta couldn't help but be confused, she wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, and was very, very caught up in the beat.
Spinning, beaming and moving herself around she almost didn't hear as he spoke up again, eyes drawing back up to his as she tilted her head. Fluidly- oh! "A Gardevoir never reals her secrets~" left her lips, she moved once more into step, waiting few beats before mumbling, "I don't just practice- at this point i'm helping teach classes and choreographing... you have too little time? all my time is filled with dancing, and practicing."
Enough talk, it was distracting her from the beat- and she didn't want to think. She... she just wanted to let go. Everything was fine. A flick of her leg and she was back in action, giggling and moving around with as much grace as she could manage.
That cheeky response had Gabe smiling despite himself. Still, knowing that she was teaching classes and being a choreographer for— Oh. His chest tightened, but there wasn’t time for a physical reaction. They were both moving too quick for that, and she was quickly starting to outpace him as he realized. He struggled for a moment doing what he could to keep up, but a pressure in his back and hip and— knee. The fidgety feeling of muscle pulling over knee had Gabe’s pupils shrinking.
Don’t fall don’t fall don’t fall don’t fall He kept the steps up shakily, not as bouncy as he was but still moving. Just get through the song. It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fi— Three quarters of the way in, something rippled under his skin, and just as they were turning again, Gabe found himself falling. Jerking somewhat, he fell backwards rather than forward, letting go of her hands as quickly as he could to keep her from crashing down with him. Still, he fell sideways instead, landing hard, and hissing sharply.
It had been good, and she was thoroughly enjoying herself. Quickstep was quick, it was fun, and it kept her from thinking, another round, another spin- she was so absorbed in it she had failed to notice her partner begin to struggle, it was only in the midst of a turn, when suddenly she felt weighless for a small moment did her eyes really digest what she was seeing, widened with a concerned noise as M- Gabe tumbled to the floor. Oh fuck. She quickly halted herself to a stop, what does she do?!
Injured- floor. Clear the floor? Does she leave him and ru- no that's stupid! The music thudded around her but all she could feel was immense pressure, did she help? Would he want help? Does help- is needed? Where was his mmain hurt point- the leg? The elbow- the knee. It was always the knee in dance, and the fall to his side- His hissing drove her out of her thoughts and without so much of a word she moved down, grabbing one of his arms and attempting to yank him upwards, she may be tiny, but years of physical activity day after day had made her a stronngggg girl.
"Fuck- uh- shit" She stumbles over what to do, planting her feet firmly into the ground to give her more support, "Hobble- use my shoulder- we need..." She glanced around, biting the bottom of her lip as she tried to peer through the crowd, what was here that could help, what did she do- ice. Ice? Was there ice? Did ice exist in this place? Wait- the punch... that was something cold- momentary relief!
Sadly, Arietta is a bit of a ditz. Her brain stumbled from one thing to the next, "I don't care if you refuse help, you need it and I know dance injuries." She spoke before she'd even allow him to, moving before she could think further, she couldn't leave him there, and damn it if she wasn't have a great time until now- without thinking she'd began to the punch bowl, all but ready to lift it up and hold it to Gabe's leg or side if need be- could a tabelcloth be used for first aid?! She was still a little bouncy and full of energy, but now she was using it to gravitate her eyes from thing to thing and had no way to output it.
His side was throbbing. Gabe winced. He’d been about to shift around, try and force himself up, and then figure out what to do from there when suddenly he found himself being pulled, yanked, upwards. He stumbled but was suddenly on his feet again. He was aware then that it wasn’t just one side throbbing. His head was pounding, and suddenly the music that had been tolerable was now blaring and painful. Still, at her words, he leaned against her.
“Shit… Bubblegum…” he muttered. The Ditto still in the form of a hair piece keeping that witch’s hat to his head slid out and looked vaguely worried over him. If he had the energy, he would have berated it for not doing something, but fact was he didn’t. “I’m—“
Ara was speaking though, and it jerked Gabe back into reality. “What—“ What was she thinking? Where was he getting carted to? The punch bowl??? “Ara— that’s … that’s gross….” he kind of whined at thinking she was about to make him put feet on the table or otherwise. Of course, some vague germaphobe part of him would awaken in a time when it was completely inconvenient. “Gum… Frosty’s form,” he ordered. The Ditto hopped off his head entirely and immediately shapeshifted into the Delibird. “Freeze over some cups or something….” The Ditto stared not understanding. It needed a more direct order. Gabe sighed frustrated.
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