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Old March 13th, 2013 (7:54 PM).
Claire*'s Avatar
Claire* Claire* is offline
Here's to the crazy ones.
    Join Date: Jul 2012
    Location: USA
    Age: 27
    Gender: Female
    Nature: Sassy
    Posts: 554
    Genevieve L’esprit
    A voice that could not be denied, forcing its will upon its target like Arceus speaking to his many creations that roamed the land. Resistance was futile, in the recesses of Genevieve’s mind, a furious and swift war was fought and won by the voice. Booming and resonant in tone, it echoed through her mind and issued forth its orders that, while similar to the one that Genevieve had so wished, felt forced and oppressive on her will. How briefly she fought it, it took her a long time to feel drawn to voice, overcome like a Venomoth to flame. “Y-your will be done...” She answered the voice, her cadence flat and lifeless.

    Eyes refocusing on the world around her yet again, she fully emerged from her trance-like, painful state. Body wheezing with painful psychic afterglow, she tried her best to act normal in front of the others, even if Scar and Deluge had just emerged from the same experience as herself. The Silver Tribe seemed to disperse as quickly as the hodgepodge group had come together. Snype and the Jolteon left a cloud of dust in their wake and went about doing who knows what. The two deserved each other and probably would torture others more by their speech than actions. Genevieve hated that kind of disgustingly overt flirtatious behavior she had witnessed ever so briefly between the two. The last thing she saw before the voice came, was one of them sitting on the other and taking part in some repartee. When she came to, they were gone, probably off procreating and producing more driveling, knuckle dragging spawn to forever remind her about how few others there were that compared to herself. She admittedly even hated it when she resorted to such tactics on her own targets. Men being so easy with a touch here, a stroke there. It was like you could get them to kill their own mother by only a fleeting moment of pleasure. It was a bit quaint, she had to admit. Such a genetic weakness so inherently ingrained and strongly in predisposition of most men.

    Not even batting an eye when Sovereign was hauled away, she simply looked on his hulking body as he was removed from their presence. A lumbering beast that was quickly outliving his usefulness. As much as she disliked to, she looked to Scar, a rather serious expression plastered over her face as she leaned near him and spoke low enough that only he could hear. “Scar, will you follow me?” She asked him and cocked her head to look at him in the eyes. Genevieve decided she didn’t hate him for what transpired between the two of them the night before, it had been mostly her fault in end, but it still left a sour taste in her mouth. He hadn’t had even a second thought about taking advantage of her situation, but she was the one who had put herself there. It wasn’t like the act was special anymore anyway. Simply another tool in her bag of tricks. “I need you to not speak until I tell you to however.”

    Not even waiting for a reply, she left him where he was standing and began to walk through the city streets. Noise seemed to bombard her from all directions as the struggle for life and death unfolded before her. For once, she felt almost invisible as she watched the ancients go marching through the trodden earth and rip pokemon from their homes and prostrate them upon the ground as the search began in earnest. The search would take time and Genevieve had no doubt that time would run out until the order was finally given.

    Not looking behind her to see if Scar was following, she continued her way through the buildings until she found the one she needed. The bell tower was old and had obviously seen better days. Trudging her way through the ghost town halls of the structure, she made her way to the spiraling staircase and slowly made her way up the steps deep in thought. Where had the pokemon gone who watched this building? It would surely be part of some religion or order that nurtured it. She finally came to the top of the stairs and made her way out to the bell’s peak, the outside air a bit chillier this high up and the winds a gentle continuous breeze that buffeted her skin. The bell was silent now, abstractly different from the chaos that ruled below. For whom the bell tolls, was a mystery, but it tolled no more.

    Folding her legs inward and sitting down on her knees, she looked out at the city in its entirety, the view impeccable. A shadow moved in her vision, but it was not Scar as she had hoped it would be. “For the rebellion!” The shadow shouted and came swinging at her with a massive hammer, the very same one undoubtedly used to ring the gargantuan bell that now hung over her head. Genevieve remained seated and simply gathered a burst of energy before shooting the pokemon over the side of the tower with a psychic blast. His tortured scream was long and drawn out as he fell, but finally silenced as he reached his eventual and obvious end. “Apparently not a flying type...” She whispered to herself in a little joke that lifted her spirits only slightly. “Falling is a lot like flying, just with a more permanent destination.”

    Extending a hand to the spot next to her, she waited to see if Scar had indeed taken her up on the offer. She could have sensed if he did, but needed to save her energy for what she had planned. If he had followed, she hoped he would get the message and sit next to her like she needed, if not, this would be much harder without him.