p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"strongPRESENT DAY/strongbr /emstrongbr /Chapter 6:br /The Inspirationbr /br /strong/em–br /br /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"It was no use. The spark, the flash of artistic vision... it wasn't emhitting /emright./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"The early afternoon sun hanging over the town of Artazon was pleasantly warm and bright as spring was starting to figure itself out. The barn before her, turned into a makeshift art studio for the event at hand, was full of various folks coordinating and crafting and collaborating on their projects, the sounds of humans and Pokemon intermixed in their various affairs. Nemona had needed space to herself, so she'd moved her canvas just outside the barn, against one of its sides. Green grass at her feet, a weathered red-and-brown barn before her, not too much sun, not too many clouds, not too much wind, not too much commotion... The milling activity from inside the building and around the town in general was comforting background noise. A small herd of Sunflora passed by her from behind, following a diligent youth. Ah, yes, the Artazon Gym Test of hide-and-seeking the masses of Sunflora, the town's official 'mon. Gym Leader Brassius was squeezing in an assessment battle for some lucky Naranja student, from the looks of their school uniform as they wandered around with the crowd of flower Pokemon. It took Nemona back to the multiple, multiple times she had helped many a student pass this test – including the frustrated and impatient Scarlet, who had spent the entire time complaining about what any of it had to do with demonstrating proficiency in battle...br /br /Besides the bittersweet reminder of days long past, the setting was about as ideal as she could ask for, but Nemona was still struggling to get off to a good start on this art project. Art wasn't her strong suit, but like with anything, when presented with a challenge, Nemona never backed down./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"With a heavy sigh after a solid thirty seconds of intense staring at her blank wooden slate, Nemona decided to take a short mental break and check her RotomPhone. Maybe that would help prep her mood. She'd gotten a text from her girlfriend./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"( From: Mi Tesoro )/p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"( sounds like it's not happening. haven't heard back from em. )/p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"(Arven's still gonna do his thing there tho. grabbin supplies with him after work )/p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"Nemona's heart sank. This was supposed to be a full Zero Crew kinda thing... They hadn't gathered all in one spot in emmonths. /emNot that she wasn't going to say 'no' to having Arven hang out, too, she actually was missing the guy a little with how busy things had been as of late. Penny and Nemona had bailed on two of their last four planned weekly hangouts with him, and it was starting to get to her a bit./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"The fact that even Penny didn't know what was up with Letty was kind of odd, though. Every emother /emtime the League had hired Scarlet for some freelance work, they always had tabs on things, and whatever Rika knew – which was everything, always – got passed along by Penny, if not voluntarily, then passively./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"Had Letty changed their mind, maybe? About meeting up. Nemona had been emgood, /emshe hadn't messaged Scarlet outside of their group text chat in emweeks, /emmaybe even months. Scarlet had no reason to be annoyed by her, surely... So, then, what was up? Why weren't they confirming they'd come? Letty emdid /emhave a habit of ghosting people (so a Gengar really was a good fit for them, huh?), but even so-...br /br /"Have the muses spoken to you today?" came the enigmatic tone of Gym Leader Brassius, eliciting Nemona to tuck her phone back in a breast pocket on her vest./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"She was still in her work uniform, since it was only the early afternoon – participating in this event emwas /emtechnically doing work for the League; and besides, it doubled as security to have her on site, just in case. Though she wasn't wearing all of her usual accessories, as she wanted to have a somewhat more casual appearance for the festival. So it was steel-toed boots, work pants and belt (as well as her metal chain belt of pokéballs), her usual security vest (complete with Security Chief badge) with a white button-up shirt, and her hair was bunched up into a high bun with no cap on. She'd left said cap at the Artazon Gym, knowing the secretary there would watch over for her while she took in the flowery air. She even had her unruly hair tamed with an ornate hair comb modeled after Quequaval's feathers – a memento from Cordia she'd received a few years back, being used to hold her thick hair bun in place. It was meant to celebrate what Nemona had found in Scarlet – a true Rival. And Quequaval was the Pokémon Nemona had brought up alongside Letty's Meowscarada. br /br /So, Cordia emhad /embeen taking notes when she'd gotten that gift, it seemed... Even if she hadn't been present to watch their iconic fight in Mesagoza, Cordia had claimed to have watched a recording of it, at least. And Cordia barely bothered watching emany /emPokémon battles, so-... Well. Nemona had worn the hair comb specifically to honor Scarlet, and... now that didn't matter, 'cause Letty was going to be a no-show, like /br /While Nemona was emmostly /emwearing attire she was often seen in, Brassius, meanwhile, was donning a special suit with Sunflora-inspired, shimmering patterns of gold and matching trim. He wore the same suit every time this event happened. And he always came checking on the participants to see how their pieces were coming /br /"How goes the birth of a new creation?" he pondered over her shoulder./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""It, uh-..." Nemona gawked at her floundering, unfinished creation with some disdain. "It emgoes/em," she replied, wrinkling her nose as her shoulders sagged./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"The attempt at a wood carving Nemona was trying to make wasn't vibing the way she wanted or hoped: a lumpy, wonky, blank-faced excuse for a Pawmot. It was supposed to be jumping, battle-ready, but her attempt thus far looked more... like it was tripping and yawning. She'd try crafting an art piece each year for the Artazon Open Crafts Festival – seeing a regional Champion participating helped motivate the younger crowd, in particular, so Nemona was told. Brassius had managed the event for a long time, now. The town became one big art gallery for a week or so, with the first day of the festival being the main highlight, and it was always where Brassius would debut his biggest new works. There'd be all kinds of family friendly stations to visit, a menagerie of crafting workshops to help teach the basics of various creative projects... It was good, wholesome, and really brought out the kids, something the increasing use of RotomPhones made rarer with each passing year. Not emthat /emmany kids in Paldea were really interested in Pokemon battling themselves with their own partners, but getting to emmake /emthings with their 'mons seemed to at least inspire the more creative types of youth to show up, if their parents didn't drag them out, besides./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"Nemona's presence at the event would always bring some extra participants, as well, and elicit extra art entrants into the festival: anyone interested in taking on Champion Nemona in a battle emhad /emto produce a valid art piece and submit it. It had to be made from start to finish the first day of the festival, and those interested would be put in a raffle drawing to face off against one of Paldea's Champions: given those options were kind of dry in recent times, it usually ended up being Nemona. They did the same raffle setup for Brassius himself – so one art piece entry granted two raffle passes – but there was always more fanfare about getting to see a resident Champion at work./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"They couldn't technically call her 'the emreigning /emChampion' since Scarlet had defeated Nemona multiple times in a row by that point. But Scarlet was rarely emin /emPaldea anymore, and had become a semi-celeb in other regions by proxy of their Paldean title and their obvious strength – they'd even become a bit infamous in certain circles, from the way Penny talked about it. Nemona had heard buzz that Letty had also reached Champion status in the Johto League not too far back, and yet there'd been no fanfare or bragging about it. When Nemona had tried looking into it, though, the Johto League received new Champions every few emmonths/em... Even in embatches, /emsometimes. So in a way, it wasn't really news worthy in a sense. Given what Nemona knew of Johto, it was emdefinitely /emnot that they went 'too easy' on challengers, either. It made her wonder why Paldea had yet to find a new Champion. It had been a full emyear /emsince anyone had even emattempted/em to challenge their Elite Four... and over five years since anyone had completed it (with Scarlet being the most recent victor)./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"And thinking about emthat /emonly made Nemona start pondering about her chat with Cordia from a couple days prior, when she'd moved in with Penny./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""emMmm/em..." came the familiar skeptic humming of Brassius from over Nemona's shoulder. "Your piece is... a bit emlacking, /emisn't it?" he contemplated. The two of them swapped concerned expressions, and he nodded thoughtfully. "You can see it, too. It's not at emall /emavant-garde."/p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"em'I'm gonna... avant... strongyour/strong... garde...!' /emspan style="font-style: normal;"Nemona thought spitefully to herself, her eyes projecting her bottled up frustration at the man critiquing her unfinished work. With grit teeth beneath a wrinkled nose and a clenched fist at her side, she could practically feel a blood vessel about to pop in her forehead. And yet she managed to eke out a professional smile despite it./span/p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"span style="font-style: normal;"She could run circles around this hoity-toity artist when push came to shove, who was /spanemhe /emspan style="font-style: normal;"to be getting up in her busi-?!/span/p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""span style="font-style: normal;"Start over," he commanded rpimly, grabbing her piece – themed after her Pawmot, Puñito – before discarding it face down in the grass. "Find something that truly /spaneminspires /emspan style="font-style: normal;"you, Nemona." He flexed a balled fist abreast, staring at her intently. "Not simply what you /spanemthink /emspan style="font-style: normal;"you /spanemought /emspan style="font-style: normal;"to be creating..."/span/p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""emHey/emspan style="font-style: normal;"," Nemona grunted, glaring down at her unfinished work in the grass. Her fingers twitched at her sides as she kept herself from throttling the guy for disrespecting her art. "I was... /spanemgetting /emspan style="font-style: normal;"somewhere with that...!"/span/p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""emWere /emyou, though?" Brassius retorted with narrowed eyes, his entire demeanor pompous and 'above' her./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"Nemona ground her boot into the grass a little with her heel, crossing her arms. She had half a mind to pop him one for being so full of himself. Maybe that was Penny's influence leaking through – Nemona of years back wouldn't have even emquestioned /emGym Leader Brassius. It'd be all em'Yessir, of course, right away, Sir' /emand she'd already be to work on something new. Her status as Chief of Paldean League Security, however, made her an equal to Gym Leaders and school staff alike, at least in the general co-worker sense. And with that shift in power came more assertiveness to push back when she was feeling belittled./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"She went to bend down and retrieve her unfinished carving, but Brassius stamped his shoe upon the wooden plaque, putting his whole weight against it. It cracked, and Nemona felt her entire being tighten in a flinch, only to relax a moment later. Almost as if he'd done her a favor./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"Nemona huffed and leaned back up, making sure her hair bun hadn't been jostled too harshly from the jerking movements. She straightened her vest out and shoved her hands on her hips./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""emYou're /emthe one who always asks me to partake in this thing," Nemona scoffed. "I could just emleave, /emy'know..."/p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""Yes," said Brassius with... emsass-/emius. Chin in in hand, nodding all smugly... "You emcould /emgive up. Mm. 'Champion Nemona, the Quitter.' emThat /emwould be more emavant-garde, /emat least, more emotionally resonant, than this slapdash work you were about to pass off as Champion-worthy."/p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""I'm a emsecurity worker, /emnot an emartist,/em" Nemona repelled with an upward snap of her arm./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""emEveryone /emis an artist, Nemona," insisted Brassius with his glossy, pedantic gaze. "Everyemthing /emis an art."/p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""Then why not let me do what I'm emgood /emat?" snipped the Security Chief./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""I am trying to do exactly emthat/em," insisted the melodramatic artist, pressing his hand to his chest and flaunting his body language at her. "I emknow/em you are good at expressing the empassion /emthat emroils /emwithin your hot-blooded young heart. And emthis?/em" He lifted his shoe from her now cracked wooden carving, then kicked it across the grass. "This is emnot /emyou. This is emnot /emwhat you are emgood /emat. This piece is forced, it is empandering, /emit is playing to expectations for its own sake. You are embetter /emthan that. I have quite literally seen you produce embetter /emthan that."/p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""Maybe I'm emnot /em'better than that' today," Nemona grunted, and her arms crossed over her chest again. "Maybe I've got other things on my mind! Maybe I just wanna get this meet-and-greet over and done with. It's not like any of these people are gonna hold a candle to me in a battle, anyway..." She knocked her steel-toe boot against an uneven mound of grass, as if to press it into its proper place, flat with the rest of the ground around it. "I don't even see what the point is..." she added under her breath./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""We do not create with the intent to supersede others' works," Brassius advised. And there he went with the same stuff he got from Hassel... As if she hadn't heard this over and over from all of her time at the school. "Art is not a emrace. /emNor is battling, in and of itself, a singular outward grasp toward victory. To battle, to create art... it is all a emclimb. /emOne which we might inspire others to take, or grab their hand to lift them up beside us. You should know this better than anyone. To battle is emyour /emfield of expertise, Nemona. To uplift others, your calling and self-appointed duty. If your passion is somehow lacking – if you view your strength as some singular entity, some emnumerical goal/em in a static state of 'achieved' or 'not achieved' – then you have emmuch /embigger things to be concerned about than how easy victory may come to you in the here and now..."/p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"Nemona felt her steely expression dent to reveal some uncertainty at the truth she could see in Brassius' words. Her lower lip propped out in a slight pout as she felt that emhollowness /emin her chest when this kind of stuff got brought up – the 'future'... The expectations of greatness everyone around her seemed to have, yet she emherself /emincreasingly could not comprehend.../p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""... I emguess/em," she sighed out, feeling too raw and defensive to have him read through her so transparently and be so emright /emin all his fancy blabbering. He emdid/em clearly understand the role of a Gym Leader: to emfoster, /emnot to quell. It was at least something the two of them had found some common ground on, and part of why she kept attending his festival each year. He had a passion, a sense of 'balance in all things' even in spite of his tunnel-vision, that made her feel hopeful that she could one day attain that kind of focus while still being able to see the forest for the trees like he did./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""So, what is the emactual /emproblem?" Brassius asked from across the way, reaching for a fresh plaque of wood from the nearby pile he'd prepared near the barn's entrance. With light effort as he made his way back, wood in hand, he observed, "It's rare to see you so... creatively blocked, so distant and... quiet."br /br /Wordless, she watched as he slated the wood onto the canvas Nemona had been working with./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""emPff, /emyeah, it's... it's usually the emopposite /emproblem, isn't it?" huffed Nemona, scratching at her cheek glumly as she approached the canvas./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"Brassius effortlessly picked up a wood gouging tool and handed it to her. She accepted hesitantly but ultimately went to work beginning to etch out a border around the edges of the piece of wood, her mind having not even decided what she'd create just yet./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"Nemona closed her eyes for a moment and tried envisioning one of her 'mons for inspiration./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"Lyla came to mind immediately: her faithful Lycanroc./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"She dismissed the thought. It should've still been Puñito, right? She'd carved him her first couple times at this... It emhad /embeen a while. That's why she'd been attempted to recapture him – almost like some metaphorical 'recapturing' of the young, adorable, spunky spirit he'd carried when she caught him over five years prior. He was her primary 'mon, her go-to, her main partner... Her emace./em The Pokémon everyone associated her with.../p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"But as she stared at the wood on her canvas, with an awkward divot in its corner, her lips unevenly shut and trembled, and she felt her stomach quiver./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"Why didn't it emfeel /emlike Puñito was her 'main Pokémon' anymore...? Why did he keep letting her down more and more as time went on? She was emso /emdeliberate in her training... What was she doing emwrong? /emShe had years of experience training Pokémon, he was the one she'd spent the emmost /emtime on by that point, emsurely. /emEven more than ones she'd trained before meeting Scarlet. So... what was the emproblem?/em/p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""I'm just-... I feel emoff/em lately," Nemona admitted./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"Brassius hazarded a guess: "Is it that your... emcoveted Rival/em doesn't seem to be joining us today, despite that prospect having originally been promised?"/p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"Nemona's hand slipped a little on the wood, her delicate border now scuffed off balance with a blemish, a divot digging in too deep. The perfect symmetry of the piece was now ruined, and that divot couldn't be undone. Once peeled from its wood, the shaving couldn't be put back./p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"br /It emwas /emtrue that she was anxious about Letty. The whole crew was supposed to be meeting up that evening, and yet... there'd been no word on Scarlet returning from whatever job they'd been sent on. Which only heightened Nemona's anxiety. But it wasn't what she was frustrated about right in that moment. Brassius and his emall-knowing smug self... /emShe'd stopped putting Scarlet on a pedestal a long time ago, why'd everyone have to keep-...?!/p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""emGrgh/em-" She tightly gripped the wood gouger in her hand, her teeth clenching. She chucked the wood gouging tool to the ground. "Not emevery /emfucking thing on my mind has to do with Scarlet, you know," she snapped in a bitter chill of prickly syllables./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"That had sure shut Brassius up. Though he looked more impressed and fascinated than apologetic. Even the way he reacted when she was trying to be pissed at him made him come across as embetter /emthan her...! And experiencing this self-appointed insecurity, emknowing, /embeing self-aware, that she was projecting her bottle up embullshit /emat the man, who was a genuinely positive force in her life, and the lives of so many... it just made her even more mad at /br /In a moment of lost calm, Nemona kicked her boot's toe against her canvas, just enough to jostle her carving around a little. "emUrgh, /emso... emsick /emof everyone always assuming that battles and rivals are all I emthink/em about..." Her hands clawed at her scalp's sides, her nails sifting backward through her bun-taut hair. In her moment of rampaging frustration leaking out, she impulsively grabbed the canvas with both hands and toppled it over./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"Brassius had observed all of this with one wrist on his hip, the other propped against his chin. Hadn't even flinched, much less taken any steps back./p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"Puffing hot hair as she felt her hair comb loosening from her sudden movements, Nemona fussed the comb and her hair bun back straight, looking at Brassius for any kind of reaction./p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""Hm. Art is creation emand /emdestruction," Brassius remarked coolly, seemingly unfazed. If anything, he almost seemed empleased /emthat he'd riled her up. That just emfigured/em... He commented, "When an artist of any kind seeks to further hone their craft, there is often much that must be left behind. Destroyed, even. It takes a true artist to recognize what they wish to leave behind, and what they wish to keep. But one must remain true to their vision, their intent. And that requires passion. Now-..." He glanced down at the canvas and unfinished carving, unceremoniously sitting in the grass. "emThat /emwas a display of the kind of passion I think of when I hear the phrase, 'Champion Nemoma.' Less bridled than usual, perhaps." He quivered his fists before himself. "But emfiery, /emphysical... That was actual ememotion, /emnot simple placation. emThat /emis what you need to let yourself work through: the source of those emotions."/p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"Brassius closed the short distance between them, daintily knelt down, and scooped up the carving tool from the grass. He dusted it with his fingertips, delicately flicking stray dirt from his hand as he handed it back to her. She accepted it, and accepted the weathered palm he placed on her vested shoulder./p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""It's important to let yourself process these feelings," he told her. Dramatically clasping his other hand as he looked to the gently clouded sky with his other hand clenched abreast, he prattled, "Anger, disappointment, disgust, emrage/em... We cannot appreciate the easy times without accepting the difficult ones overcome to reach them. We cannot confront the dark without light present to cast a shadow: anything otherwise would simply be swallowed in the black, unable to be seen."/p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""And-..." Nemona nodded impatiently as he removed his hand from her shoulder, letting her pick her canvas and carving back up. Fussing things back into place, Nemona asked, "What's emany /emof this have to do making art?"/p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""The same things it has to do with battling, I suppose, emmuh-haha!/em" mused Brassius with a chuckle. He clapped Nemona's back gently, his fingers like thorny little twigs against her shoulder-blades. He began to walk off with the parting words, "Release that passion, that doubt, that emanger/em, my fellow. But remember to emprocess /emit. emHarness /emit. Lest it grow beyond your control..."/p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"And with that, the conversation had concluded./p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"By the time he'd faded into a crowd of youths to check in on their amateur wood-working, Nemona added to herself in a mumble, "... Sounds a lot like taming a Pokémon that lives inside your brain, huh...?"/p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"em'Shouldn't the Pokémon strongoutside /strongof my brain be the priority, though...?'/em/p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"That crowd of Sunflora from before was passing by yet again behind her. Nemona turned to look – the group had grown in size. Following their leader blindly, as was their duty during the Gym Test. The student leading them around looked determined enough to see things through, at the least./p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"As they disappeared behind a building in the distance, Nemona gaped dumbly at her pokéballs, dangling on the chain that hung from her belt./p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"She felt kind of guilty for it, but she knew what her heart wanted to depict. She knew what would calm her down./p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"She summoned out Lyla, gave her some ruffling pets, asked her pupper 'mon to pose, and got to work on a carving of her Very Good girl./p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"It was no use. The spark, the flash of artistic vision... it wasn't emhitting /emright./p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"The early afternoon sun hanging over the town of Artazon was pleasantly warm and bright as spring was starting to figure itself out. The barn before her, turned into a makeshift art studio for the event at hand, was full of various folks coordinating and crafting and collaborating on their projects, the sounds of humans and Pokemon intermixed in their various affairs. Nemona had needed space to herself, so she'd moved her canvas just outside the barn, against one of its sides. Green grass at her feet, a weathered red-and-brown barn before her, not too much sun, not too many clouds, not too much wind, not too much commotion... The milling activity from inside the building and around the town in general was comforting background noise. A small herd of Sunflora passed by her from behind, following a diligent youth. Ah, yes, the Artazon Gym Test of hide-and-seeking the masses of Sunflora, the town's official 'mon. Gym Leader Brassius was squeezing in an assessment battle for some lucky Naranja student, from the looks of their school uniform as they wandered around with the crowd of flower Pokemon. It took Nemona back to the multiple, multiple times she had helped many a student pass this test – including the frustrated and impatient Scarlet, who had spent the entire time complaining about what any of it had to do with demonstrating proficiency in battle...br /br /Besides the bittersweet reminder of days long past, the setting was about as ideal as she could ask for, but Nemona was still struggling to get off to a good start on this art project. Art wasn't her strong suit, but like with anything, when presented with a challenge, Nemona never backed down./p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"With a heavy sigh after a solid thirty seconds of intense staring at her blank wooden slate, Nemona decided to take a short mental break and check her RotomPhone. Maybe that would help prep her mood. She'd gotten a text from her girlfriend./p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"( From: Mi Tesoro )/p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"( sounds like it's not happening. haven't heard back from em. )/p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"(Arven's still gonna do his thing there tho. grabbin supplies with him after work )/p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"Nemona's heart sank. This was supposed to be a full Zero Crew kinda thing... They hadn't gathered all in one spot in emmonths. /emNot that she wasn't going to say 'no' to having Arven hang out, too, she actually was missing the guy a little with how busy things had been as of late. Penny and Nemona had bailed on two of their last four planned weekly hangouts with him, and it was starting to get to her a bit./p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"The fact that even Penny didn't know what was up with Letty was kind of odd, though. Every emother /emtime the League had hired Scarlet for some freelance work, they always had tabs on things, and whatever Rika knew – which was everything, always – got passed along by Penny, if not voluntarily, then passively./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"Had Letty changed their mind, maybe? About meeting up. Nemona had been emgood, /emshe hadn't messaged Scarlet outside of their group text chat in emweeks, /emmaybe even months. Scarlet had no reason to be annoyed by her, surely... So, then, what was up? Why weren't they confirming they'd come? Letty emdid /emhave a habit of ghosting people (so a Gengar really was a good fit for them, huh?), but even so-...br /br /"Have the muses spoken to you today?" came the enigmatic tone of Gym Leader Brassius, eliciting Nemona to tuck her phone back in a breast pocket on her vest./p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"She was still in her work uniform, since it was only the early afternoon – participating in this event emwas /emtechnically doing work for the League; and besides, it doubled as security to have her on site, just in case. Though she wasn't wearing all of her usual accessories, as she wanted to have a somewhat more casual appearance for the festival. So it was steel-toed boots, work pants and belt (as well as her metal chain belt of pokéballs), her usual security vest (complete with Security Chief badge) with a white button-up shirt, and her hair was bunched up into a high bun with no cap on. She'd left said cap at the Artazon Gym, knowing the secretary there would watch over for her while she took in the flowery air. She even had her unruly hair tamed with an ornate hair comb modeled after Quequaval's feathers – a memento from Cordia she'd received a few years back, being used to hold her thick hair bun in place. It was meant to celebrate what Nemona had found in Scarlet – a true Rival. And Quequaval was the Pokémon Nemona had brought up alongside Letty's Meowscarada. br /br /So, Cordia emhad /embeen taking notes when she'd gotten that gift, it seemed... Even if she hadn't been present to watch their iconic fight in Mesagoza, Cordia had claimed to have watched a recording of it, at least. And Cordia barely bothered watching emany /emPokémon battles, so-... Well. Nemona had worn the hair comb specifically to honor Scarlet, and... now that didn't matter, 'cause Letty was going to be a no-show, like /br /While Nemona was emmostly /emwearing attire she was often seen in, Brassius, meanwhile, was donning a special suit with Sunflora-inspired, shimmering patterns of gold and matching trim. He wore the same suit every time this event happened. And he always came checking on the participants to see how their pieces were coming /br /"How goes the birth of a new creation?" he pondered over her shoulder./p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""It, uh-..." Nemona gawked at her floundering, unfinished creation with some disdain. "It emgoes/em," she replied, wrinkling her nose as her shoulders sagged./p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"The attempt at a wood carving Nemona was trying to make wasn't vibing the way she wanted or hoped: a lumpy, wonky, blank-faced excuse for a Pawmot. It was supposed to be jumping, battle-ready, but her attempt thus far looked more... like it was tripping and yawning. She'd try crafting an art piece each year for the Artazon Open Crafts Festival – seeing a regional Champion participating helped motivate the younger crowd, in particular, so Nemona was told. Brassius had managed the event for a long time, now. The town became one big art gallery for a week or so, with the first day of the festival being the main highlight, and it was always where Brassius would debut his biggest new works. There'd be all kinds of family friendly stations to visit, a menagerie of crafting workshops to help teach the basics of various creative projects... It was good, wholesome, and really brought out the kids, something the increasing use of RotomPhones made rarer with each passing year. Not emthat /emmany kids in Paldea were really interested in Pokemon battling themselves with their own partners, but getting to emmake /emthings with their 'mons seemed to at least inspire the more creative types of youth to show up, if their parents didn't drag them out, besides./p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"Nemona's presence at the event would always bring some extra participants, as well, and elicit extra art entrants into the festival: anyone interested in taking on Champion Nemona in a battle emhad /emto produce a valid art piece and submit it. It had to be made from start to finish the first day of the festival, and those interested would be put in a raffle drawing to face off against one of Paldea's Champions: given those options were kind of dry in recent times, it usually ended up being Nemona. They did the same raffle setup for Brassius himself – so one art piece entry granted two raffle passes – but there was always more fanfare about getting to see a resident Champion at work./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"They couldn't technically call her 'the emreigning /emChampion' since Scarlet had defeated Nemona multiple times in a row by that point. But Scarlet was rarely emin /emPaldea anymore, and had become a semi-celeb in other regions by proxy of their Paldean title and their obvious strength – they'd even become a bit infamous in certain circles, from the way Penny talked about it. Nemona had heard buzz that Letty had also reached Champion status in the Johto League not too far back, and yet there'd been no fanfare or bragging about it. When Nemona had tried looking into it, though, the Johto League received new Champions every few emmonths/em... Even in embatches, /emsometimes. So in a way, it wasn't really news worthy in a sense. Given what Nemona knew of Johto, it was emdefinitely /emnot that they went 'too easy' on challengers, either. It made her wonder why Paldea had yet to find a new Champion. It had been a full emyear /emsince anyone had even emattempted/em to challenge their Elite Four... and over five years since anyone had completed it (with Scarlet being the most recent victor)./p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"And thinking about emthat /emonly made Nemona start pondering about her chat with Cordia from a couple days prior, when she'd moved in with Penny./p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""emMmm/em..." came the familiar skeptic humming of Brassius from over Nemona's shoulder. "Your piece is... a bit emlacking, /emisn't it?" he contemplated. The two of them swapped concerned expressions, and he nodded thoughtfully. "You can see it, too. It's not at emall /emavant-garde."/p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"em'I'm gonna... avant... strongyour/strong... garde...!' /emspan style="font-style: normal;"Nemona thought spitefully to herself, her eyes projecting her bottled up frustration at the man critiquing her unfinished work. With grit teeth beneath a wrinkled nose and a clenched fist at her side, she could practically feel a blood vessel about to pop in her forehead. And yet she managed to eke out a professional smile despite it./span/p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"span style="font-style: normal;"She could run circles around this hoity-toity artist when push came to shove, who was /spanemhe /emspan style="font-style: normal;"to be getting up in her busi-?!/span/p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""span style="font-style: normal;"Start over," he commanded rpimly, grabbing her piece – themed after her Pawmot, Puñito – before discarding it face down in the grass. "Find something that truly /spaneminspires /emspan style="font-style: normal;"you, Nemona." He flexed a balled fist abreast, staring at her intently. "Not simply what you /spanemthink /emspan style="font-style: normal;"you /spanemought /emspan style="font-style: normal;"to be creating..."/span/p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""emHey/emspan style="font-style: normal;"," Nemona grunted, glaring down at her unfinished work in the grass. Her fingers twitched at her sides as she kept herself from throttling the guy for disrespecting her art. "I was... /spanemgetting /emspan style="font-style: normal;"somewhere with that...!"/span/p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""emWere /emyou, though?" Brassius retorted with narrowed eyes, his entire demeanor pompous and 'above' her./p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"Nemona ground her boot into the grass a little with her heel, crossing her arms. She had half a mind to pop him one for being so full of himself. Maybe that was Penny's influence leaking through – Nemona of years back wouldn't have even emquestioned /emGym Leader Brassius. It'd be all em'Yessir, of course, right away, Sir' /emand she'd already be to work on something new. Her status as Chief of Paldean League Security, however, made her an equal to Gym Leaders and school staff alike, at least in the general co-worker sense. And with that shift in power came more assertiveness to push back when she was feeling belittled./p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"She went to bend down and retrieve her unfinished carving, but Brassius stamped his shoe upon the wooden plaque, putting his whole weight against it. It cracked, and Nemona felt her entire being tighten in a flinch, only to relax a moment later. Almost as if he'd done her a favor./p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"Nemona huffed and leaned back up, making sure her hair bun hadn't been jostled too harshly from the jerking movements. She straightened her vest out and shoved her hands on her hips./p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""emYou're /emthe one who always asks me to partake in this thing," Nemona scoffed. "I could just emleave, /emy'know..."/p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""Yes," said Brassius with... emsass-/emius. Chin in in hand, nodding all smugly... "You emcould /emgive up. Mm. 'Champion Nemona, the Quitter.' emThat /emwould be more emavant-garde, /emat least, more emotionally resonant, than this slapdash work you were about to pass off as Champion-worthy."/p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""I'm a emsecurity worker, /emnot an emartist,/em" Nemona repelled with an upward snap of her arm./p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""emEveryone /emis an artist, Nemona," insisted Brassius with his glossy, pedantic gaze. "Everyemthing /emis an art."/p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""Then why not let me do what I'm emgood /emat?" snipped the Security Chief./p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""I am trying to do exactly emthat/em," insisted the melodramatic artist, pressing his hand to his chest and flaunting his body language at her. "I emknow/em you are good at expressing the empassion /emthat emroils /emwithin your hot-blooded young heart. And emthis?/em" He lifted his shoe from her now cracked wooden carving, then kicked it across the grass. "This is emnot /emyou. This is emnot /emwhat you are emgood /emat. This piece is forced, it is empandering, /emit is playing to expectations for its own sake. You are embetter /emthan that. I have quite literally seen you produce embetter /emthan that."/p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""Maybe I'm emnot /em'better than that' today," Nemona grunted, and her arms crossed over her chest again. "Maybe I've got other things on my mind! Maybe I just wanna get this meet-and-greet over and done with. It's not like any of these people are gonna hold a candle to me in a battle, anyway..." She knocked her steel-toe boot against an uneven mound of grass, as if to press it into its proper place, flat with the rest of the ground around it. "I don't even see what the point is..." she added under her breath./p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""We do not create with the intent to supersede others' works," Brassius advised. And there he went with the same stuff he got from Hassel... As if she hadn't heard this over and over from all of her time at the school. "Art is not a emrace. /emNor is battling, in and of itself, a singular outward grasp toward victory. To battle, to create art... it is all a emclimb. /emOne which we might inspire others to take, or grab their hand to lift them up beside us. You should know this better than anyone. To battle is emyour /emfield of expertise, Nemona. To uplift others, your calling and self-appointed duty. If your passion is somehow lacking – if you view your strength as some singular entity, some emnumerical goal/em in a static state of 'achieved' or 'not achieved' – then you have emmuch /embigger things to be concerned about than how easy victory may come to you in the here and now..."/p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"Nemona felt her steely expression dent to reveal some uncertainty at the truth she could see in Brassius' words. Her lower lip propped out in a slight pout as she felt that emhollowness /emin her chest when this kind of stuff got brought up – the 'future'... The expectations of greatness everyone around her seemed to have, yet she emherself /emincreasingly could not comprehend.../p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""... I emguess/em," she sighed out, feeling too raw and defensive to have him read through her so transparently and be so emright /emin all his fancy blabbering. He emdid/em clearly understand the role of a Gym Leader: to emfoster, /emnot to quell. It was at least something the two of them had found some common ground on, and part of why she kept attending his festival each year. He had a passion, a sense of 'balance in all things' even in spite of his tunnel-vision, that made her feel hopeful that she could one day attain that kind of focus while still being able to see the forest for the trees like he did./p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""So, what is the emactual /emproblem?" Brassius asked from across the way, reaching for a fresh plaque of wood from the nearby pile he'd prepared near the barn's entrance. With light effort as he made his way back, wood in hand, he observed, "It's rare to see you so... creatively blocked, so distant and... quiet."br /br /Wordless, she watched as he slated the wood onto the canvas Nemona had been working with./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""emPff, /emyeah, it's... it's usually the emopposite /emproblem, isn't it?" huffed Nemona, scratching at her cheek glumly as she approached the canvas./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"Brassius effortlessly picked up a wood gouging tool and handed it to her. She accepted hesitantly but ultimately went to work beginning to etch out a border around the edges of the piece of wood, her mind having not even decided what she'd create just yet./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"Nemona closed her eyes for a moment and tried envisioning one of her 'mons for inspiration./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"Lyla came to mind immediately: her faithful Lycanroc./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"She dismissed the thought. It should've still been Puñito, right? She'd carved him her first couple times at this... It emhad /embeen a while. That's why she'd been attempted to recapture him – almost like some metaphorical 'recapturing' of the young, adorable, spunky spirit he'd carried when she caught him over five years prior. He was her primary 'mon, her go-to, her main partner... Her emace./em The Pokémon everyone associated her with.../p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"But as she stared at the wood on her canvas, with an awkward divot in its corner, her lips unevenly shut and trembled, and she felt her stomach quiver./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"Why didn't it emfeel /emlike Puñito was her 'main Pokémon' anymore...? Why did he keep letting her down more and more as time went on? She was emso /emdeliberate in her training... What was she doing emwrong? /emShe had years of experience training Pokémon, he was the one she'd spent the emmost /emtime on by that point, emsurely. /emEven more than ones she'd trained before meeting Scarlet. So... what was the emproblem?/em/p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""I'm just-... I feel emoff/em lately," Nemona admitted./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"Brassius hazarded a guess: "Is it that your... emcoveted Rival/em doesn't seem to be joining us today, despite that prospect having originally been promised?"/p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"Nemona's hand slipped a little on the wood, her delicate border now scuffed off balance with a blemish, a divot digging in too deep. The perfect symmetry of the piece was now ruined, and that divot couldn't be undone. Once peeled from its wood, the shaving couldn't be put back./p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"br /It emwas /emtrue that she was anxious about Letty. The whole crew was supposed to be meeting up that evening, and yet... there'd been no word on Scarlet returning from whatever job they'd been sent on. Which only heightened Nemona's anxiety. But it wasn't what she was frustrated about right in that moment. Brassius and his emall-knowing smug self... /emShe'd stopped putting Scarlet on a pedestal a long time ago, why'd everyone have to keep-...?!/p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""emGrgh/em-" She tightly gripped the wood gouger in her hand, her teeth clenching. She chucked the wood gouging tool to the ground. "Not emevery /emfucking thing on my mind has to do with Scarlet, you know," she snapped in a bitter chill of prickly syllables./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"That had sure shut Brassius up. Though he looked more impressed and fascinated than apologetic. Even the way he reacted when she was trying to be pissed at him made him come across as embetter /emthan her...! And experiencing this self-appointed insecurity, emknowing, /embeing self-aware, that she was projecting her bottle up embullshit /emat the man, who was a genuinely positive force in her life, and the lives of so many... it just made her even more mad at /br /In a moment of lost calm, Nemona kicked her boot's toe against her canvas, just enough to jostle her carving around a little. "emUrgh, /emso... emsick /emof everyone always assuming that battles and rivals are all I emthink/em about..." Her hands clawed at her scalp's sides, her nails sifting backward through her bun-taut hair. In her moment of rampaging frustration leaking out, she impulsively grabbed the canvas with both hands and toppled it over./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"Brassius had observed all of this with one wrist on his hip, the other propped against his chin. Hadn't even flinched, much less taken any steps back./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"Puffing hot hair as she felt her hair comb loosening from her sudden movements, Nemona fussed the comb and her hair bun back straight, looking at Brassius for any kind of reaction./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""Hm. Art is creation emand /emdestruction," Brassius remarked coolly, seemingly unfazed. If anything, he almost seemed empleased /emthat he'd riled her up. That just emfigured/em... He commented, "When an artist of any kind seeks to further hone their craft, there is often much that must be left behind. Destroyed, even. It takes a true artist to recognize what they wish to leave behind, and what they wish to keep. But one must remain true to their vision, their intent. And that requires passion. Now-..." He glanced down at the canvas and unfinished carving, unceremoniously sitting in the grass. "emThat /emwas a display of the kind of passion I think of when I hear the phrase, 'Champion Nemoma.' Less bridled than usual, perhaps." He quivered his fists before himself. "But emfiery, /emphysical... That was actual ememotion, /emnot simple placation. emThat /emis what you need to let yourself work through: the source of those emotions."/p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"Brassius closed the short distance between them, daintily knelt down, and scooped up the carving tool from the grass. He dusted it with his fingertips, delicately flicking stray dirt from his hand as he handed it back to her. She accepted it, and accepted the weathered palm he placed on her vested shoulder./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""It's important to let yourself process these feelings," he told her. Dramatically clasping his other hand as he looked to the gently clouded sky with his other hand clenched abreast, he prattled, "Anger, disappointment, disgust, emrage/em... We cannot appreciate the easy times without accepting the difficult ones overcome to reach them. We cannot confront the dark without light present to cast a shadow: anything otherwise would simply be swallowed in the black, unable to be seen."/p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""And-..." Nemona nodded impatiently as he removed his hand from her shoulder, letting her pick her canvas and carving back up. Fussing things back into place, Nemona asked, "What's emany /emof this have to do making art?"/p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;""The same things it has to do with battling, I suppose, emmuh-haha!/em" mused Brassius with a chuckle. He clapped Nemona's back gently, his fingers like thorny little twigs against her shoulder-blades. He began to walk off with the parting words, "Release that passion, that doubt, that emanger/em, my fellow. But remember to emprocess /emit. emHarness /emit. Lest it grow beyond your control..."/p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"And with that, the conversation had concluded./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"By the time he'd faded into a crowd of youths to check in on their amateur wood-working, Nemona added to herself in a mumble, "... Sounds a lot like taming a Pokémon that lives inside your brain, huh...?"/p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;" /p
p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"em'Shouldn't the Pokémon strongoutside /strongof my brain be the priority, though...?'/em/p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"That crowd of Sunflora from before was passing by yet again behind her. Nemona turned to look – the group had grown in size. Following their leader blindly, as was their duty during the Gym Test. The student leading them around looked determined enough to see things through, at the least./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"As they disappeared behind a building in the distance, Nemona gaped dumbly at her pokéballs, dangling on the chain that hung from her belt./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"She felt kind of guilty for it, but she knew what her heart wanted to depict. She knew what would calm her down./p
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p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"She summoned out Lyla, gave her some ruffling pets, asked her pupper 'mon to pose, and got to work on a carving of her Very Good girl./p