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

[achievementhunter]

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.

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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.

Comments

[yallstupid]

[Guzma has a sweet tooth the size of his fist, probably, and he's been dying for a huge, frothing mug of Tapu Cocoa paired with his favorite sour-sweet Malasada...fresh from the fryers. Nothing beats that for breakfast when he actually does wake up early, and the cafes just start brewing and cooking...ah. Heaven. ♥ It's taken nearly all of Guzma's willpower not to ask the rabbit for a five pound bag of mix and a kettle to make the former, but his endurance is slipping away with all this talk of his favorite foods.]

Mm, well, you traveling 'round with the realest Trainers in Alola, my man. That anklebiter's the first ever regional champion where I'm from. Ain't no one stronger'n 'er in all Alola...yet. [He grins, folding his arms behind his head as he sinks his back against the stone.] Ain't got need for a flashy title like that, but I plan on taking that brat down some day.

Mm...still don't understand how there's pokemon in other places, but I guess if one world can suck 'em up like a vaccuum, then it isn't so farfetched... But yeah, lotta people what got pokemon keep 'em as pets, too, or companions for small families - y'get close fast, 'specially when y'raise 'em young. Me n' my bro Golisopod ain't ever been apart. He was the first bug pokemon I caught when he was still a Wimpod. And I was a snotty little brat m'self.

[An actual happy memory from Guzma's childhood? A rarity, and more so that he's talking about it. But if it involves his beloved pokemon, he's happy to share.]

[justribbing]

No kiddin'? ...Huh.

[ There's a pause, and then Sans ruins everything: ]

So is a regional champion a big deal or something?

[ It's pretty cute that this guy reminisces like this with a stranger, weird too, but... heck, it's probably because it's hard NOT to become fond of what strikes Sans as monsters in their infancies that he views Guzma's own clear fondness as a good thing. But he's not done ruining it. ]

I mean, not that I'm judging. But you gotta rivalry with a little kid.

[yallstupid]

[Wow, easy there, killer...don't go tripping into dangerous waters now, when your health is so low.

Guzma scoffs, a deep scowl on his face. Not that you judging, huh? Mmm, why you lying???? He glances sideways, then forward again, closing his eyes and flicking his sunglasses over his eyes.]

That little kid could trounce you n' me at the same time, prob'ly with her darned wrestlecat alone. [That Incineroar of hers was a behemoth - a wall of snarling muscle and flames that would no sooner suplex a giant boulder (just because it can) than curl up in one's lap, purring.] ...A regional champion means she took on every trial and challenge put in front'a her; beat down the best'a the best. Alola's strongest trainers, and came out on top. Not a lotta people can brag 'bout that.

And lastly, my man--a trainer ain't valued by their age, but their skill. Y'all may see a kid, but believe me, ain't no kid what's done what she done. [For me.] ...Whatever, nevermind.

[Why'd he even bother trying to get friendly?]

[justribbing]

Y'know...?

[ And if there's any question that he's going to keep playing with fire, Guzma need only look at his amused grin. Sure, as a skeleton, his face is sort of stuck that way all the time, but this? This is pure comedy gold, in his opinion. ]

With the shades on, you can almost pull that off without soundin' lame.

[ SANS, HE WILL STOMP YOU INTO POWDER. ]

I can't tell if you've gotta crush or if you just really, really respect her for whuppin' your behind once.

[yallstupid]

[Now, had Sans left it at poking fun of Guzma's looks, he'd have maybe shrugged it off with an irate huff - he has a much easier time of letting things roll off his back when it comes to how silly and "wild" he looks. Yeah, he's gotten comments about his hair, his wardrobe, and those two tea saucers he calls sunglass lenses...but it's the latter sentence that plucks a foul chord, and suddenly the space between them get charged in a bad way.

What was that about a hit being more fatal to a monster when someone wants to do them harm? When they are so eager to FIGHT without MERCY? You're walking a hairline thread, Sans, and Guzma's knuckles pop as his fingers curl into the fabric of his pants, tightly pulling the cloth as each digit squeezes his knees. Something to hold onto, something to keep them from reaching out, from grabbing, from doing what he's picturing in his mind.]

I'm gonna need y'all to not ever say that again.

[She's eleven, and Guzma is well into his twenties. It's vulgar, and makes ill of the relationship he has with the girl. Maybe that's why he's so mad, why it took that alone to immediately reach his boiling point. The tightness in the man's body speaks volumes - the way his eyes seem to stare at Sans, challenging him to take another shot. Keep talking, skeleton, really. See what it gets you.]

[justribbing]

...Yeesh. Would you relax? I'm just pullin' your leg, pal.

[ Then again, the whole, uh... age difference thing is kinda lost on Sans, whose only ability to measure age with humans is a mixture of height and innocence. And even then, it's not really a consistent thing.

He's seen some kids who don't really seem like kids, know what he means? ]

Ah, nevermind. This stopped bein' fun.

[yallstupid]

[Guzma bites his lip, swallowing down the acidic retort about how he could easily do the same - pull this guy's leg...off - but he just takes a deep breath and stands up, shuffling away from him to be alone for a while...lest his temper get the better of him and he does something unwise.

The smart mouth here is right about one thing though, this conversation did stop being fun, and he's not sure if he'll reattempt another during the course of this expedition. God, he's really getting sick of people...this was a bad idea, and the loot they got didn't equal half of the trouble it took to get here.

He's ready to peace the fuck out.]