lifenet | [Voice / Potential Action]

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[Voice / Potential Action]

[The sound of rushing waves is not something Guzma expected to hear as he slowly came into consciousness. For a moment, even through the haze of his still waking mind, he almost expects to have come home, back to Alola, but the blazing sun above, the hot sand at his back, and the cool lick of clear seawater at his feet tells him otherwise. It's too quiet to be anywhere in Alola... Tourist line the beaches even in the early hours - exercising, walking, enjoying the stunning views of the rising sun...

This is different.

Yet...familiar.

Rolling over to his side, Guzma picks himself up, and isn't at all surprised to find a backpack with his name etched into it. Haha...well now. Guess this place still had some need of him. He searches not the backpack, but first his pockets, and spits a curse all over again. Two...just two. Of course he wouldn't be lucky enough to keep the third, like in Havenwell. Not here. Nothing here ever comes easy. He'll see who was kept and who was left behind in due time, but he knows the weight of Golisopod's pokeball, it's always with him. His partner through thick and thin....inseparable through everything the multiverse throws at them. Hah.

He dusts the sand out of his hair and clothes, sighing as he shoulders the bag and picks out the familiar stone, giving it a tap with his finger before he clicks his tongue. What time is it? Who the hell knows? Guzma doesn't give a damn - he's been woken up by this thing time and time again, so it's high time he repaid the favor.]

Yo, yo, yo - it's ya boy. Guess me n' them islands not done our song and dance, yeah? Roll call, public of Enso - chime in what who's still living the ding dang dream.

[And as he walks, beelining for the mana pool to head to his old islet home (and evict anyone who may have taken up residence), he's keeping an eye out for...certain people.]

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[She hadn't gone to sleep yet, or so she thought.

The heat's making it difficult to take an afternoon nap, no matter how much shade she manages to get under. It's hot. Super hot. But it always is, so she had been occupying herself with other things-harassing Pepper, for one. Picking up rocks, shoving the pillows to one side of the tent and other such nonsense when-

A sound comes from her bag and it's a voice she can pick up on no matter how many layers of fabric muffle the iStone's sound.

It's what makes her realize she has to be asleep. There's no way she's hearing this voice otherwise and she pinches her arm, her leg, and-

She can feel it. It hurts, but that doesn't mean much in a place like this. Believing that he's actually back, if she happens to be in a dream, is going to be painful when she wakes up, so for now-]

Bro?

[He stops walking.

He stops walking and simply stands, dumbstruck, in the middle of the jungle for a solid minute before he can find his voice once more. She's...here? She's back? Guzma was sure she had--...she was... She had gone, before him. He was sure of it. Shortly before he left, was brought not to the island region he actually calls home, but another world, a new world... Guzma knew she had left him, too.

He exhales a stiff breath that he didn't know he was holding, and every thought redirects itself to her voice. Please, don't let this be another trick. He wouldn't be able to able it this time around. He wouldn't be able to hold back if it wasn't her, and he'd utterly and totally lose himself to everything he hates about himself. Please...be real. Be her.

Be Ren.]

Where are you?

[There's a powerful silence that follows as she tries to decide just how far she wants to go into this dream. It backfired horrifically months ago-her attempt to keep going back to memories of her family and relive those moments.

It feels like a risk now and something chokes her, as she opens her mouth to speak again. Her eyes feel hot and heavy and it's not because of the heat.]

Home. I'm home.

[And he's-]

Where are you? I'll find you-I won't stop looking until I do.

[Oh! This guy! She knows this guy. Have an echo right back:]

Still living the ding dang dream.

[What a great new phrase he's just given her.]

No clue who you are, but I'm here!

[Michael only met Guzma that one time when Guzma was like eight, he does not recognize his adult voice at all.]

back too??

[Why are so many people returning? They'd thought they'd lost you too, buddy!]

[The heck? Did his voice just echo back at him? Guzma pauses, looking at his stone quizzically before giving it a thump his his hand, turning it over in his palm.]

The heck? Wait-- [Wasn't there like, a...kid? A little Murkrow looking kid. What was their name again? God, fuck, he doesn't remember. Guzma's good with faces, not names. Not unless he makes a key point to remember them.]

Uh...bird? Bird girl. Chatot??

[More like eleven or twelve, but who's really counting? Guzma sure wasn't, and reliving those godawful childhood days were terrible, though he can't quite pin the voice. Ah...how he misses the technological luxuries of Havenwell already. His tablet would be able to have a video function, easy, and he may actually know who this person is, at a glance.

Hence why, with no familiarity, his response is a bit clipped.]

Fantastic. Good to know, random citizen, thank you for participating in the annual island census.

You got it, random guy!

[hey, not like you introduced yourself at all either on this island-wide broadcast, buddy!]

[Well... close. Kind of. She chirps anyway.]

I am Kiri!

[ They've never met but, well... they have a thing in common. Er, sort of. Both returned fairly recently, even if it had been an entirely different her. ]

I'm certain we've never met, but welcome back.

[Too? Are...are people returning? Why? For what purpose? Is something happening that needs people that were once here to come back? Guzma hums thoughtfully after a moment of quiet, and he chews his lip. This could be either good or bad, and judging by the island's track record...he's not placing any bets on it being good, really. Though what is there to do? Just grin and bear it, and wait for things to come as they may.]

Yeah, seems that way, don't it? You doing okay there, D?

[The chuckle that escapes his mouth his quiet, more like a hiss of air through his teeth. He can't say one way or the other if it's good to be back, but...at the least it's familiar. Some sort of unfinished business, probably, that brought him back here. Plus, it seems others are returning as well...]

Heh, yeah. Can't say y'all's voice is ringing any bells, but...hah. How long's it been? There still something what keeps track'a the date 'round here?

[YES, THAT WAS IT! He snaps his fingers, and makes a mental note to...try and remember her name next time. Probably, she was certainly the most interesting kid he's encountered...in the last few months, anyway.]

Right, that's it! Kiri...how y'all doing, kiddo? I been gone long? [Heavens, he has no darn clue how long he's been gone for... Days? Weeks? Months? Years?]

[A long delay.]

[When they finally answer, it is a credit to how much things have changed since they first met Guzma that they are willing to say this much, even if it is...sparse:]

missed you

Yo yo yo, my boy! Welcome back!

[ A few seconds of dramatic silence. ]

... Yo yo yo, who are you tho?

[Boy, it sure is a good thing that the stones don’t have a video function, otherwise the sight of Jyushimatsu’s face (and who it reminds him of) may have set Guzma off enough to fling his stone so far out to sea it’d give that dang water dragon a black eye. The voice is unfamiliar, though not surprising. Guzma half expects everyone he’s really met to be long gone. Funny that he’s getting the welcome committee though... Never been one to be welcomed anywhere, this guy.]

Guzma. Probably never met, if you’re fairly new here, yeah? [Or they just never crossed paths. And that, perhaps, is a blessing in disguise.]

[Okay, that actually makes him laugh a little bit. Good to know people here aren't all doom and gloom, and can dish it out as well as they can take it.]

What's the date, anyway? There still a way to track that here or have I been gone a billion years or something?

Oh, I'm sure all these islands'll be gone by then! It's March. No idea what year - do people have a year system here?

[He hasn't been around long enough to concern himself much with that.]

Long time.

[It's probably only been a couple of months, but when you're four years old that's quite a while...]

I miss you!

[Home. The word now has so many meanings, and Guzma’s not really sure he can call this world, this place, “home” – but it is shockingly close. For all its horrors...for all its trials and challenges...for all the things it lacks, it still has people in it, miraculously, that Guzma can call his friends and even members of his very large family. It hurts, a little, and he still has to push aside the naivete that jumps into his throat, the excitement and sheer joy to be speaking to Ren again. This place plays tricks, it did once to him and that lead to his death... He has to be careful, just in case. And yet--]

I’m heading to the temple, the mana pool there. You can meet me there.

[His voice is strained, like he’s trying to force out air from his lungs, that feel painfully tight. Guzma wants very badly for this to be real, but he can’t help the inkling thought that he simply doesn’t deserve it. Being back here? Hah. It has to mean something. He has to have been brought back to the islands because he wasn’t meant to leave. He got shunted away to Havenwell because he wasn’t meant to go home... This, too, has to have some sort of catch.

But he really, really, really wants it to be real.]

[Aha...that still doesn’t get easier, no matter if he hears it from someone he knows well, or someone he’s only barely gotten to know. Guzma’s never really thought of himself as someone worth missing – he sort of put on the air of someone that’d people rather be happy was gone, and stayed gone. It’s what he’s been told by...people. Bad people, sure, but hear something long enough, no matter how bad it is, and you start to believe it eventually.

But. Little by little...he’s starting to realize people out there really do care, and that maybe his presence really does matter, to some. Kiri is cute, young, maybe a little naive. She probably doesn’t understand that he may have very well been gone for good, and never gave her a second thought, if he was back in Alola now. Mm…that’s not a great thought, but at least he remembers her now.]

Thanks, kid.

[Ouch.

That alone stings real bad, but there’s also a sort of warmth amidst the burning heat those words sear into his chest. It’s a bittersweet feeling, and brings up some memories that are just the same. Was this what is was like when he all but gave up the family he had in Alola...all for the whims of that demented woman? He was willing to throw them all away, jump headfirst into a pit of spikes, all because some witch cast her spell on him. Those idiots, they tried so hard, and were so happy when he finally came back to the mansion... It made disbanding the team so hard. He expected them to hate him, to shun him. They had every right – most didn’t have anywhere else to go to – and yet...they did their stupid pose and told him they’d always be hardheaded members of Team Skull, no matter what.

Guzma misses them.

He rubs his face, looking up at the canopy overhead, sunlight flickering through the thick leaves and vines, and inhales sharply. Jeez, he hates this...he’s not good at this. But after a long moment where he has to gather himself, he mutters back into the stone, a choked sort of whisper, because the wounds are still raw, the memories are still fresh, and the pain still aches sometimes.]

...Sorry. [He swallows the lump in his throat.] Me too, brother.

[They hurt him.]

[That wasn't their intention. Intention doesn't matter, of course. It doesn't change whether or not those sorts of things hurt. The Guardian had felt bad to know that their death had hurt the Drifter, that their absence had affected them. There was no preventing it. He could not have changed that he disappeared, could he?]

[They cannot make that right. But they can try.]

not your fault

[He knows that. Right?]

March? [So that'd only be a few months then...maybe three? It was about December when he left, just thereabouts, so not much in the way of actual time gone, but...a lot can still change and happen in three months.]

Yeah, man, don't ask me 'bout the year, that's way over my head. [Not to mention the place he was skirted off to after his time here had a whole other sort of monthly calendar. The days and length of said months were the same, but the names were totally different.]

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