Morphic - Private Thread meditate ;; luckgandor
Somewhere along the way, the Charizard manages to break free from the overwhelming calm of the Komala, and when she does, the rest of her emotions quickly set in.

I have a third shape, too. She'd seen Gawain's third form, so she'd prepared herself for having her own, but there's still an ounce of disbelief that it actually happened lingering within her. But how does this one work? As she wanders across the muddy plain of the Outwash Basin, she finds a solid spot of grass where she can comfortably rest her draconic weight. Then, she sits, lifting the tip of her tail carefully above the grass, and tries to remember how she'd fallen asleep.

It'd been freezing, almost comfortably so... she'd drifted away, and then woken up as a Komala. Io wanders over the scenario, searching for clues. What was it that made me turn? Io slows her breathing and closes her eyes, slowly trying to bring herself down into meditation to clear her head and remember things more clearly. It's then that she hears a shift in the grass and then suddenly can't even feel the prickly blades beneath her. She looks sharply down at the small chunk of a wooden log clutched in her paws.

Oh, meditation? The scarred, one-eyed Komala looks around. She reaches a paw out to touch the grass, and even though she sees her hand on it, she can't feel it at all. Her brow furrows. Interesting.
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Luxray are supposed to be like Kings. Dictator is supposed to be a God. Right now, they don't feel a lot like either, wandering through the sticky, muddy plains, their paws and fur slowly becoming stained with mud. It's going to be a pain to clean off later, but they aren't thinking about later right now. They're only thinking about the now, and even then that's only barely happening.

Dictator drags their paws through the mud, stumbling as they go. It's been a while since they've eaten or drank anything. While they know logically it's a bad idea to be wandering around like this in this kind of state, they just... don't know what else to do. What is there to do? It's not like they've found some kind of purpose in this ecosystem yet, not like they've found somewhere to belong.

Right now, they're just existing, barely. Hanging on by a thread. Dictator almost doesn't even notice the Charizard change into a Komala, but the movement catches their eye, and they lift their head drearily.

"...who goes there?" They croak.
A voice ripples out to her across the soothing sound of the bubbling waters around them. Who goes there? While Io's mind immediately leaps onto the sound and seeks it out with her one good eye, she quickly realizes that her body drags a little, like there's a miscommunication along the way that causes her muscles to hesitate before moving her head. It's strange--she feels even more calm than usual, so lackadaisically detached from the world around her that it feels like she's almost viewing it like a specter from another realm.

Finally, her drooping eye lands on the source of the voice. The Komala gazes at the creature from her delta of grass on the shallow streams. Large ears tip as she slowly tilts her head. The Pokemon that had called out was a majestic creature--the name Luxray bubbles from the haze of her lost memories. It reminds her of Gawain's new form--they have the same pale blue body and splashes of the same yellow, but much of their skin is shrouded by a majestic black mane, stiff with static. The Pokemon looks rough, though. Their entire posture just screams misery, or something similar.

It takes a whole few seconds for her words to travel from her brain and out of her mouth. "Io," she answers plainly. She doesn't seek a greeting or an introduction in response--she simply calmly answers the question, and watches the Luxray curiously but aloofly.
[Image: cvCrblA.png]
table by k'sariya | space stock by funerium / resurgere
Dictator's brown eyes don't meet the Komala's, and it feels like every inch of their body is tired. Even so, the mud is sensory hell, so they start to walk towards the streams. They can at least wash off while they're here, and worry about everything else later. Much later, preferably. They give a half-hearted grunt when the Komala says her name, staying in the shallow edge of the streams as they let some of the wet mud be washed away.

"Okay. My name's Dictator," they're finally able to say after a few moments of silence. "I'm a god you know. But even I don't know what's going on here." Dictator looks... wary. They won't meet Io's eyes, but they also won't look away from the rest of her. It's like they're tracking her movement silently, although she admittedly isn't moving much at all.

"Do you remember anything?"
Almost aloofly, she processes their movement into the water, cleansing themselves of the heavy mud. Head tilts slowly to the side, as if she tosses her thoughts to one side. Dictator. The word itself isn't familiar to her as it is in language, but it feels a little strange on her tongue as she rolls it within the confines of herbivorous maw. But it's what comes after that intrigues her the most--I'm a god, you know.

A snort is easily suppressed--even if she'd wanted to make a prompt reaction, this form disallows it, slowing the commands from her mind to her muscles by a moment or two at best and a few seconds at worst. If a god existed here, it was Mautte itself, the mysterious entity that granted them these powers. Idly, she wonders if this one has been accepted yet by Mautte, has been given other souls. It's the sort of power that probably gets to ones head. Or so she can imagine. However, she keeps her features completely composed, unmoving, as the Luxray moves on to inquire further.

This response is prompt. Or, at least, it seems like it--when they hit the word remember, she already knows the question that is coming. She's heard it over and over, and even asked it of many herself. It comes quickly after they ask. "No," she responds. "Nobody does." Knowingly, and perhaps with certainty that might come off with the slightest touch of hubris, she says: "You do not either." There's the slightest lilt in her voice at the end that puts the sentence between a suggestion and a question, tempering the assumption, but it lingers in the middle ground nonetheless.

"A god, you say?" she follows-up after a brief delay. If they didn't remember anything, then how could they possibly know? What made them a god and not Io herself? Gawain? Ricktor? Even Ayamine could have been a god for all they know.
[Image: cvCrblA.png]
table by k'sariya | space stock by funerium / resurgere

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