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Our old universe has
fallen into impossible chaos and destruction, but the Legendaries will save us; are saving us; have saved us. Soon many lives and memories will fill this new world, and give it purpose.

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As Terrene leaves behind
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Jani

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Apr 18 2018, 04:24 PM
Hello friends~

As I'm sure you've all heard me mention before, my husband is about to graduate from law school. This week is basically his last week of classes. He has one final next week, and one final the week after that. The graduation ceremony is on the 12th. And the day after that, we move back to our home state of UT.

So! Starting this week, preparations have begun for graduation and moving; we're also trying to get our fill of the midwest while we have the chance. Fun stuff like traveling to visit nearby family, attending one of Nebraska's renaissance festivals, and so on will be squished between the less fun things of selling some furniture, renting a truck, and all that other stuff. There's a lot to be done, and it's going to affect when and how often I can get online to post. I'll still be around, especially to answer any questions (Kaien can always poke me on Skype) but I'll be pretty sporadic. Not to mention I'll have my mind on other things, so even when I'm around, posting might be more difficult.

Thanks for bearing with me through all of this. Hopefully I can settle back into a routine once all of the chaos is past and we go back into "normal life" mode.
Apr 16 2018, 05:10 PM
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(Season is autumn, about mid-autumn. Purpose of dev, which will probably be sort of slice-of-life style, is egg posts and loyalty.)
<p>
[pest egg: 17]
<p>
It seemed to Cynth as though she hardly got any time to herself anymore. Augustus had kept her fairly busy back in Ashfield, but his business hadn't necessarily been in high demand. Because of this, she had frequently had random days off here and there to spend as she desired. Agata Mitja, on the other hand, seemed to have a never-ending amount of work that needed done. Constantly. There were patients to be seen, potions to be made, ingredients to be found, medical supplies to be made or bartered for, even the occasional emergency for which they would drop everything to attend to... it was exhausting. It was also extremely rewarding.
<p>
At first, she hadn't really minded the rigorous schedule all that much. It was good to stay busy and productive, she believed, and she was learning a lot of useful skills from Agata- or, as Cynth was more used to calling her (because the woman preferred to be called), Mrs Mitja. Not to mention, she did make a decent amount of money, which was more than enough to sustain her humble lifestyle, despite it only being an apprentice's pay. Mrs Mitja might keep her endlessly busy, but she paid well for the long hours and often repetitive tasks. To be honest, she wasn't sure how the much older woman managed to keep going and going, hardly seeming to slow down or struggle even during their busiest, most hectic days. As far as she was able to tell, Mrs Mitja never complained and never hesitated. The simile "like a machine" came to her mind, though she wasn't entirely sure what the phrase referred to, it seemed to fit Mrs Mitja's work ethic.
<p>
But over the past... how many months had it been, now? Two? Three? Four? It was difficult to keep track. However long it had been, Cynth had noticed that her relationships with her Pokemon were beginning to decay. Not in any major way, but in a few small ways. Imp no longer attempted to play with her, nor did he flop into her lap demanding to be pet as regularly and ritualistically as he used to. Indie had faded somewhat back into her more standoffish, grouchy habits that she had had during the first couple months of their partnership. Trick... well, Trick was about the same, she supposed. Perhaps he did seem to come around a bit less, though. She certainly couldn't blame him- she was hardly ever available to chat or to go out on little excursions anymore. On top of all of this, she was concerned that her egg hadn't yet hatched- sure, it had only been about a month since she had purchased it, so maybe it wasn't too worrisome that it hadn't hatched or even so much as wiggled yet, but she worried anyway.
<p>
Aside from the emotional distance she was beginning to feel developing between her and her team, she also felt as though she might be burning out a bit on the work itself. She felt bad admitting this even just to herself, primarily because of how doggedly Mrs Mitja committed herself to each day of work without ever giving herself a day off, but as each day dragged on and the days began to blur together, each one just like the last, filled with endless work from sunup to sundown and often even beyond the daylight hours... She was running out of steam. She couldn't tell one day apart from the one before or the one after.
<p>
That was why, at the end of the day yesterday, Cynth had managed to summon the courage to ask Mrs. Mitja for some time away from work. It was a couple of hours after sunset, and they were working in silence- as was the norm- on sieving and bottling the rest of their freshly made potions and salves. It was satisfying to lean back, heave a sigh, and admire the literal dozens of liquid- or cream-filled medicinal flasks and other containers. As she gathered them one by one and transported them to a set shelves where Mrs. Mitja stored her medicinal wares before using or selling them, Cynth had once again gone over the words in her head, wanting to be able to word it well. She didn't want Mrs. Mitja to think she was being lazy or anything of that sort- but she knew her relationships with her Pokemon were important, more important than this work. To her, at least. She actually wasn't sure if Mrs. Mitja felt the same way about her relationship with her own Pokemon, which Cynth did see occasionally, assisting Mrs. Mitja in some form or another, most often at the farm just outside the outer wall.
<p>
"Mrs. Mitja?" As she had begun, she had sounded much more unsure than she wanted to. "I'd like- I mean, I was hoping-" Cynth had had to stop and take a quick breath in to try and reset herself, to try not to feel intimidated as Mrs. Mitja had turned from where she had taking stock of what supplies she had in order to look at Cynth with her characteristic blank face. Cynth's words had then all came whooshing out suddenly: "I need to spend some time with my Pokemon and I was hoping I could take half of the day tomorrow to be with them instead of coming here. Please." All the words had tumbled out of her mouth one after the other, and she had tacked on the please at the end after a brief moment of hesitation.
<p>
Mrs. Mitja had merely nodded her head once in acceptance, with slightly raised eyebrows. "Fine."
<p>
This had been unanticipated. Cynth had expected a little bit of pushback. Thrown off, she had begun to figuratively backpedal, as if the old woman had used reverse psychology. "It doesn't have to be tomorrow. And maybe it only needs to be an hour. It could wait, though, if you think you need me tomorrow-"
<p>
"Don't come in tomorrow. At all. I ran this place just fine before you began working here, I can manage a day on my own."
<p>
"Of course you can, Mrs. Mitja, I just- I didn't- I-" Cynth had again sighed, and pushed that flustered feeling away. "Thank you, Mrs. Mitja."
<p>
That had been yesterday. Today, Cynth had gotten up as early as she normally did nowadays, just a bit before sunrise, when the sun wasn't yet visible but the sky was already lightened as it anticipated the arrival of the sun. She prepared herself as if she was getting ready for work- she washed in a basin of lukewarm water, scrubbing herself with a harsh and grainy soap. She then dressed, picking a pair of pants and a shirt that didn't look much different from the couple of others than made up her wardrobe. She then donned the same reddish cardigan that she had been wearing on the very first day of her memory, when she woke up in Ashfield. It wasn't too worn just yet, and it was wonderful for those in-between days of spring or fall when it was hard to tell if it was going to be warm or chilly. Today, however, she didn't pull up her hair like Mrs. Mitja asked that she do when she worked. She let it stay down, feeling the dampness of it against her neck and soaking into the shoulders of her cardigan and shirt.
<p>
The young woman moved very quietly as she did all this; her two canine companions were snoozing on the pile of miscellaneous cloth and blankets that she called her bed, Indie curled protectively around the purple egg and Imp sprawled indecorously on his back. She didn't want to wake them until she was ready to go. She wouldn't let them sleep in today, though. Mrs. Mitja had given her one entire day free to spend as she wanted; she wasn't going to waste a single minute of it.


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<div class="spencredit"><a href="http://shine.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showuser=17198" target="_blank">spenny</a></div></div>[/dohtml]
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<div class="simpappname">Agata Mitja</div>

<div class="simpappinfo">59 - female - asexual</div>

<div class="simpappdesc">Pokemon Healer & Apothecary OF Crater City</div>

Agata Mitja- who has refused to be called anything other than Mrs. Mitja since her husband died seven years ago- is a woman who is caring at heart but harsh and strict in all outward expression. Her dark hair (highlighted with many, many grey strands), though long, is never let down and never allowed to tickle against her neck and shoulders. It is secured in a high bun at all times, with exceptions only for when she bathes or sleeps. Of course, many of those who know her might tell you that she never sleeps- significant dark bags under her even darker eyes seem to back up this claim. She stands at an average 5'4" with a medium frame that holds a healthy 130 or so pounds. Her skin is starting to wrinkle and spot from age, and her hands and feet are calloused from a long lifetime of hands-on work. She wears clothes faded from too many washes; these clothes used to be dark in color to disguise any stains they acquired from her work with various berries, herbs, and liquids, but they've since faded to bland tans and grays. Her face is almost constantly caught in an expression halfway between a disapproving scowl and a blank, emotionless stare- except when she's raised her eyebrows, which is almost always to let you know that she thinks you're being ridiculous or stupid (or if she's amused, though that is significantly more rare that her thinking you're being ridiculous).
<p>
Mrs. Mitja was pulled through into Terrene nearly thirty years ago, arriving in Ashfield as most immigrants do. Of course, she wasn't Mrs. Mitja back then; she remembered only her first name, Agata. About six months after her arrival, she met a man just a few years younger than herself. This man had been pulled into Terrene nearly ten years prior to her, and had moved into Crater to do odd jobs as he attempted to save enough money to start his own farm in the Plains. He was only in Ashfield to sell a few items on behalf of a craftsman who lived in Crater; but he unexpectedly fell in love with the outrageously stubborn and judgmental woman, able to see past the moodiness and snappiness caused by her insecurity, lost memories, and lack of purpose. He saw the fire in her and knew she would do well for herself in Terrene; he saw the gentleness and compassion in her heart that she was so terrible at expressing outwardly. Agata thought this man was an idiot (and she let him know- repeatedly), but despite herself, she fell in love with him, too. She was impressed and intrigued at how a person could be simultaneously humble and ambitious, gentle and hardy. This man's name was Mitja, and because she somehow felt it was appropriate, she took on his first name as her second name, and secretly felt great pride whenever someone would call her Mrs. Mitja. Agata and her Mudkip moved to Crater to be with Mitja and his Floette.
<p>
Agata worked hard alongside her husband, having become perhaps even more dedicated to making Mitja's goal of creating a farm a reality than Mitja himself was. At first it was odd jobs, particularly jobs that required a little bit of muscle. Agata wasn't the strongest person around, but she refused to allow a task to best her, and thus she was completely willing to take the jobs that others found too difficult. Eventually, however, she worked a stint assisting a doctor in a surgery on a Pokemon; in doing this, she found she had a stomach strong enough to resist blood and gore, and a talent for being able to see how the different systems of a body were supposed to work with one another. Intrigued by the experience, she took up studying under the few healers that were in Crater, learning about the bodies of both humans that the various sorts of Pokemon. This came easily to her. She focused primarily on Pokemon, as they seemed to get injured with much more frequency than humans. Besides, she knew of her lack of charisma and conversational skills, so having patients that couldn't speak her language anyways was ideal.
<p>
Over the next few years, Mr. and Mrs. Mitja began to merge their goals and talents. Mitja decided that he would have a smaller farm than was originally planned, right outside of Crater's outer wall. He decided to grow not only berries, but other medicinal plants as well, to support his wife. Mitja learned to make potions, salves, and other medicines to better use what Mitja grew, and so that they could more easily sell whatever extra he grew on the farm. Their combined efforts were rewarded; Mrs. Mitja became well known in Crater as a good healer as the years went on, with Mr. Mitja supplying her practice with herbs and berries at a much cheaper price than if she'd had to buy all of her supplies from traders.
<p>
Their happy, comfortable life together was not to last; seven years ago, very early one morning when Mitja and his Florges were tending to the humble farm, they were suddenly assaulted by bandits. His Florges was killed by the bandits' Pokemon; Mitja himself was seriously wounded and left to die. He blacked out in the middle of his farm, and wasn't discovered until nearly an hour later. He was brought to Agata, who did her best to clean and sterilize his wounds and stabilize his condition. A couple healers who had more expertise on human healing came in to provide assistance where they could. Eventually, though, there was nothing left that could be done. They had to wait and see if Mitja's own immune system could fight off whatever infection or other malady he had been afflicted with, to see if he could survive.
<p>
He did not.
<p>
Mrs. Mitja, now lacking the warm charisma of her husband, became closed and isolated. She continued her work, and even took up responsibility for Mitja's little farm; her work became her life. She had no time or desire for anything or anyone else. She still has a compassionate heart, but outwardly her actions and words are frequently harsh, blunt, insensitive, even condescending. She knows she is these things, but finds it difficult to bring herself to care. Her expertise is in the bodily healing of Pokemon, not the coddling of delicate human sensibilities, she tells herself, even as she harbors a secret guilt for her behavior that she does not have the motivation to change.
<p>
Despite her rather poor bedside manner, Mrs. Mitja is one of the oldest and most trusted Pokemon healers and apothecaries in Crater. She does good, quick work. She does not sugar-coat her diagnoses. She is practical, honest, and dependable.


<p>
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<div class="simpappdesc">Can this NPC be used by anyone? yes</div>
<div class="simpappdesc">Can this NPC be changed/added to by anyone? pm me</div>



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<div class="tcred"><a href="http://shine.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showuser=1892" target="_blank">♛ Ames</a></div>
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<div class="smokecontainer"><div class="smoke" style="font-size:107px;">Out of</div><div class="ampers"> </div><div class="mirrors" style="font-size:107px;">Dodge</div><div class="smclouds"></div><div class="smgradient"></div><div class="smmain"><div class="smgif"></div>
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(Season is summer. Because Cynth is still months in the past. >_>)
<p>
The change from moist rainforest to open, windy plains was quite sudden. The trees seemed to thin out ever so slightly, and then suddenly, there were the plains. She felt an extremely odd mix of relief and apprehension, stepping out into somewhere so... open. In Ashfield, the buildings were all close together due to the limited space; the rainforest itself had trees growing close together and a lot of brush and vine to fill up the space in between.
<p>
The hesitation and mild anxiety she felt melted away, however, as she saw Trick's reaction to the plains. He suddenly jumped from a careful walk to a full-out gallop, the yellowish grass swishing and whooshing as he careened through it. He leaped like a Deerling might, front legs tucked as he took to the air, soaring over the grasses for a single long moment before his hooves struck dirt once more. He made a sound that Cynth had never heard him make before: a long call, a higher pitched whiny. For the first time since she had met him, Trick appeared to be... happy. And not the smug or sarcastic happiness that she had seen him express once in a while, but actual, pure, enjoyment. Perhaps even bordering on giddiness.
<p>
She would have worried that he was running away from her, leaving her behind, except that she knew nothing had been stopping him before from coming here. He had clearly known the way, as he had been in the lead for most of the journey thus far, without taking direction from her. So, why would he leave her now?
<p>
Okay, she was maybe a tiny bit anxious about the idea, but she pushed it aside. It was wonderful to see him so enthused.
<p>
It was probably about time that she let Indie and Imp out. She hadn't really explained what she had been about to do, back in Ashfield, when they were rushing out of the house that had essentially been their home; the only thing she had told them was that they were leaving. No elaboration. They deserved an explanation, of course, but she had been too emotional to properly give one. She regretted that, now; they were supposed to be a family, or at least on the same team. Now that she had some distance between herself and the event that had caused her exodus- both physical distance and temporal distance- she didn't want to put it off any longer.
<p>
Sitting right in the middle of the faint path that trailed out of jungle, Cynth settled into the dirt, noting how when she sat, the grasses reached a height just above her head. She took a deep breath in, and held it for a moment, listening to the gentle stirrings of the grasses as they brushed against each other. Exhaling, she pulled out two pokeballs, and released both canines simultaneously.
<p>
Indie, for her part, emerged with a confused expression already formed on her face. The smells that assaulted her were unfamiliar. The air itself felt drier against her skin, and it made her nose itch. Imp was very uncharacteristically still for a single heartbeat, and then he yipped and attempted to dive into the grass.
<p>
Cynth gave a wordless shout and returned him to his ball just before he disappeared into the thick grass- she might have some misgivings about Trick's intentions, but Imp she knew would run off and not come back. Not out of malice or dislike, but simply out of obliviousness. She shared a look with Indie- the calmer Rockruff was almost constantly irritated with her companion's antics, much more so than the more tolerant Cynth- and then released Imp again.
<p>
She held up a finger. "Stay, or you will go back in the ball."
<p>
Imp recognized the command, but didn't let it dampen his spirits. Since he couldn't run around, he opted to jump up and down in place. Indie's ears lowered and her eyes narrowed, but she kept her opinions to herself and instead sniffed around the area a little bit. She could smell that the horse had been here recently. The air was significantly drier, as she had sensed at first. The air of this place smelled less... heavy, maybe, than what she was used to. The world being so wide and open meant that the air could move about more easily, moving scents about with more freedom than in the closed and close forest, where the air tended to be quite stagnant and still.
<p>
"Indie, Imp, we are... moving. Moving homes. Migrating." She couldn't quite settle on how to describe the concept. "Our new home is that way."
<p>
She was only halfway through the motion of pointing in the general direction of Crater when she realized it had been a mistake. Imp seemed to take it as permission to take off, and so take off he did, in the direction that his human had pointed, following the trail. Indie barked at Imp's retreating form; Cynth stood up, grabbed her things, and began once again to follow along the trail. She had no hope of keeping up with him, but... perhaps if she were lucky, he would continue following the trail until he tired out, or grew bored and returned to her. At least she could still see him.
<p>
"Indie, keep an eye on Imp."


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❥ What is the most beautiful sight you have seen?<br>
❥ What is the most reckless thing you’ve done, or what is the most reckless thing you wish you’d’ve done?<br>
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@Amissa @Rixie

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