lifeaftr | I’ll take my throne, lay it on a mountain

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I’ll take my throne, lay it on a mountain

Who: Our volunteer mountaineers
What: Two parties split up to scale the mountain from two sides, planning to meet at it’s peak. Shenanigans occur along the way.
When: September 13th to 16th
Where: Group 1: G3, H2, G2 || Group 2: F3, F2, G2
Warnings: Please note any warnings in your subject headers!

Word spreads quickly in a small community such as this. What was originally intended to be a small party turned into something much larger- and on the day Chara planned to leave for the mountain, it’s not one, but two parties that make off for it’s peak.

Group 1, led by Chara, moves off during the early hours of the morning, seeking to search the furthest part of the mountain by following the river upwards. The path is longer and more winding- however, they are unhampered in when they can travel.

Group 2, led by Ardyn, takes off after the sun has set- due to the needs of multiple members to avoid the sun’s harsh glare. Their route takes them up the closest side of the mountain, which provides an easier path- however, they may only travel whilst the sun is set.

OOC: Welcome to the mountaineering open post! Keep in mind the following;

♆ RNG was happily done blind by our wonderful Guzma mun, with our animals RNG'd by Wade Wilson's! Thank them both for all your misfortune.

♆ Prompts have been provided for each group below! Simply toplevel wherever you wish and treat this like a normal open post!

♆ Since each group will generally be in close contact with one another, consider asking others if you can threadjack here and there; nothing says team-building like being a nosy parker.

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[Guzma definitely looks worse for wear - he's shed his hoodie entirely and is using his undershirt to wipe his face - grumbling around the rim of his water holster. He's far more used to this heat than others, and dry heat is loads more tolerable than the humidity of the islands he knows, but this is...this is something else. It's like being tossed right into the pit of a volcano, and he half wonders if this mountain is just that - a sleeping giant ready to blow its top at some point. Guzma prays he's wrong, or that if it is a volcano, it's either dormant or inactive. Though with this heat--]

Mm...hope them other guys are having a heck of a time, too.

[Because misery loves company. Guzma wipes his chin free of water with the back of one hand, approaching the youngster to get a survey of the land himself. They've trekked a good distance up (which may be why he's so pooped), but there's still more to go. Shielding his eyes from the blazing sun, he looks out over the land below. Man, if his phone still worked, he'd love to snap a couple pictures - maybe it'd help the actual cartographers on this island a bit. Ah well.]

[They glance over at him upon his approach, before deciding, apparently, that he's no real threat to them, silently surveying what can be seen of the island. He'd said that he'd come from a place much like this- a tropical paradise. Looks like he didn't get out much, if so.]

...They would not have left yet. Certain members of their party aren't capable of moving about freely in sunlight.

[So no. The misery is all theirs, currently.]

[Oh, he goes out - Guzma has the farmer's tan to prove it - but usually when he does, it's by boat. He rarely walks farther than a few miles to get supplies for the mansion, haul out stolen pokemon, beat down people who try to stop him from doing the former, and feeding himself. He's not used to walking so much in heat like this. So while he's used to it, being out in it is not an experience he knows well enough to be in tip-top shape.]

So...they don't get to feel the sun. [FUCK. THOSE. PEOPLE.] How lucky for them.

[And lucky for him, Chara knows none of this, having no current ability to read bracket text. Woe!]

They don't- but they do have to navigate their way up a mountain in the dark.

[Considering the climb they've had so far, does he really envy them?]

And unless this world differs from many others, the activity of creatures will undoubtedly rise at sunset.

[Well clearly you need to GIT GUD, SCRUB.

Ah, okay that's...that is certainly more difficult, considering he's pretty sure there's very little light to travel by unless one of the other group members has magical abilities - which is not uncommon - or found a way to create a torch. Still, traversing a mountain in the dark when nocturnal creatures may be lurking does sound pretty deadly. Sunstroke can be just the same, but they're a bit more well prepared for it.]

Mm, point. Ain't envying no one what gotta deal with them bitey-beasts. [He nods, shoving his hands into his pockets.] But if any one of 'em comes back and says their way was cake, I'm straight up decking 'em, yo.

[FIGHT ME FUCKO.]

Fair. I humbly request that you wait to deck them when I am present.

[If only to curb their urge to take to one with a knife; fists are a little less deadly. Chara fiddles with their sleeves, absently wishing that this adventure had consisted of Frisk, Tim, and them alone.

If it had, there would be no need to keep their sleeves pulled down. Can't question what doesn't surprise you.]

Until then, perhaps you would do me the favor of standing downwind.

[Well, that certainly gets a loud snort and a chuckle from Guzma. He shakes his head, but it's with sheer amusement and a wide grin on his face. Lord, kid, he's liking you more and more each day. He does a very brief fingergun at them and winks. You'll have front row tickets to the brawl, kiddo, he'll promise you that one.

If Guzma noticed anything going on there with their sleeves, he doesn't comment on it, instead raising his brow at the comment about his, uh...musk and frowning. Lord, he knows already - he stinks. He's a big guy and he sweats. Don't think for a second this isn't extremely uncomfortable for him, too.]

Fine, but you don't 'xactly smell like a bed'a roses neither, despite y'all's nickname.

[Excuse you, but they're like, eleven and yet to develop many of the uncomfortable things puberty provides to give them any super funk. They wave their hand in front of their nose, a motion accompanied by some rather exaggerated shrugging.]

My clothes were washed yesterday- with soap.

[Same as the rest of them, so heck yourself.]

[Give it maybe two years, young'un, then you'll get to know the full fun of body hair. Among other things. 8')

That scowl only deepens, and Guzma has half a mind to wipe his forehead and smear it right across this kid's cheek - he is that kind of asshole - but refrains, despite the temptation. At the very least he does shuffle away a step, but that's all they get.]

Yeah, same here - I take maybe three dips a day, brat, and I wash my clothes and switch 'em out as much as I can, but guess what? I still sweat. Kinda something we humans do naturally... Don't think none'a us were real prepped for this kinda heat, neither. S'worse'n the summers in Alola...

[Or just as bad. During those, the humidity was the killer. This dry heat isn't near as bad.]

Edited 2017-09-26 23:50 (UTC)

[Sucks for you they aren't human they're several memes in a nihilistic trench coat.]

Then ask for some deodorant; that's a human invention, correct?

It really isn't that difficult, mister Guzma.

[They've got a smartass answer for everything, sorry.]

[THEY SURE DO.

Guzma snorts, truly wrestling now with that urge to flick drops of his sweat their way, biting his lip. This kid's got one heck of a mouth on them... If Guzma didn't like them so darn much, he's pretty sure they'd be rolling down this mountain like a slinky by now.]

Yeah, and what's your excuse, you heinous little Trubbish? Tch...'fraid I got bigger things to worry 'bout than a bit of BO.

[Oh Guzma. They tease because they care.

And also because they tease, snorting in a particularly uncouth manner at his commentary.]

Is a Trubbish a type of Pokemon? Because if so, I fail to see the insult, sir. And what oh so terribly important issues are on your mind?

[Perhaps the mini peanut gallery can assist.]

Yeah, it's a pokemon - a trash bag what stinks to high heaven when it opens its dang mouth! Y'all have a whole lot in common, maybe I oughta change up what I call you.

[He huffs, frowning at the child and narrowing his eyes. Should he even indulge them? They're a particularly snooty little brat, and his experience with snooty little brats has never been very good.]

How 'bout shelter? Food? Water - stuck in this dang place without the proper necessities ain't 'xactly something to take lightly, 'specially when there's lil snots like you I gotta think 'bout. [He swats at them, never really making contact - he knows better.] Y'all are sweating worse'n most of us here, Amsonia... For real, you doin' alright?

[He's actually being sincere here. They're wearing those thick sweaters for crying out loud, and while he's uh...way more knowledgeable than to ask why (he's got a few scars he used to hide himself, on his back, but nowadays he just doesn't care), it can't be easy in this heat.]

So still at least three tiers above yourself, and the human population in general?

[He's really going to have to try harder, here; there's absolutely no way they can take being likened to a Pokemon, poorly scented or not, as a negative.

It wasn't human, after all. That would always be a step up.]

I'm still alive, am I not? [Whether he means for his hand to land or not they still duck away, eyes fixed on his palms. Try it again, buddy. Really.]My sibling and I are more resourceful than you may expect us to be, mister Guzma.

[None of those are their highest priorities. As it stands, the only reason they've had any water at all since this venture began was to get Tim off their back.

They have miles to go before they Sleep. Until then, they will continue wearing their long-sleeves; the collared shirt lighter than the sweater they'd arrived in, but certainly nowhere near comfortable. They will keep their knives on them- and they will smile up at Guzma, eyes quick to slide down to his fists once more.]

Actually...yeah.

[Guzma hums thoughtfully. Heaven knows it's better than the human population, absolutely, he will never deny pokemon are always and will forever be better than any person or peoples out there, but himself? Yeah, maybe a tier - more useful, that's for sure. But Guzma doesn't linger long on that part of their conversation, raising a brow.]

You are, and I ain't at all shocked - y'all's some'a the toughest kids I've seen. Smart as, too. You wanna talk tiers? Yeah, y'all above some'a the 'adults' here by a good twelve, easy. [He snorts, grumbling something under his breath.] But y'all still kids, too...and--mmh?

[He notices Chara staring at his fists, and curls his fingers a little. There's definitely wear there, especially around his knuckles - faded scars, fresh scratches and cuts, dried and scabbed over. Not to mention the rough callouses on his palms and fingers. It's very obvious he's been in a number of fights over the years. There's also the faded remnants of purple ink over his forearms, where his tattoos used to be. Guzma blinks slowly, and turns them over as he, too, looks at his hands.]

...Lot of 'em deserved it. [A lot, not all.]

Compliments will get you nowhere, sir.

[It's not a matter of being proud- they survive because they can. And because they can, they have to. It would be pointless to starve, to get lost, to become too dehydrated.

None of those are permanent. None of those would lead to permanent results. As tempting as they are, every idea is just an idea, no matter how often they cross one's mind.

It would be far too simple if they could be more.

He looks down at his own hands, turning them over- and it seems to them that he's misunderstood their reason for staring. That's fine.

Better that he doesn't understand.]

If you say so.

[And while it may be a compliment, Guzma's not fishing for approval - he's being honest and earnest, listing facts from what he's seen and experienced. The kid is definitely scrappy, that's absolutely no lie. They get under his skin, too - considering their, uh...previous interaction - but so did Luna. He's starting to think the children here, tough as goddamn steel, don't need anyone really worrying about them too much - they can handle it. He'll have their backs though, whether they like it or not.

From one misguided youth to another.

He's quiet, watching the child stare at their hands, curious to what they may be thinking, and he taps his foot as he looks up at the sun blazing high overhead. They wasted a tigershark no problem, dove headfirst into the water despite knowing they'd drown if they did. Stupid. Reckless. Idiotic. But resolute. Guzma can at least respect their resolve, if anything. He massages his knuckles and stands up, putting his hands at the base of his back and pops it with a satisfying sound. Oof, gotta love that awful posture and its consequences.

He shrugs lazily - if you say so - he's got nothing to say to that. What can he even say? It's really a matter of opinion, and in the past now anyway. He fights, or fought, mainly to keep himself, his brothers and sisters, and his pokemon safe. To survive. Because it was all he knew how to do - beat people down. If he's judged or looked down on for that, then so be it. Not like that's not happened ever before.]

Don't stay out here too long, yeah? [He wipes his brow again, and heads back toward the shade to rest, drink, and just reenergize as best he can. Maybe check up on the others, too.]

[His only response is a hum, child watching him leave out of the corner of their eye.

In some ways, the man was... clear. An open book in disposition and values, certainly- but rather elusive in why. He is not the kind of man they would expect to be caring for a small girl, nor one to seemingly have the patience for people whose values don't align with his own. Has that not already caused it's own, heated moments between the two of them?

And yet off he goes, parting words ones that may even be taken as concern, or care. He could simply be thinking of the detriment a sick child would be to the group as a whole.

But he's not that type of person, is he.

Letting their gaze drift back to the view of the jungle below them, Chara considers him for a few more minutes- putting it out of their mind as they turn to check on Frisk. They'll figure him out eventually. Humans always make it easy.]

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I’ll take my throne, lay it on a mountain

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